


The Buddy System

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Stories from the Cupboard [1]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: 4077 MASH, Buddies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Korean Conflict, Lonely Frank Burns, Scheming Hawkeye Pierce, mash - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 07:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7565995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Old Ferret Face is acting crazier than ever, but what else can be expected from Frank Burns?  Did Hawkeye Pierce make a big mistake about Frank?  And how come he and Trapper John McIntire are in a snit about that mistake?  Or is their argument really about Hot Lips?  Can Henry Blake cope with this zany menagerie of surgeons and their nurses, or should he just leave the running of MASH 4077 to Radar O'Reilly?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A typical workday at the 4077 M.A.S.H. ground agonizingly on especially since fighting had been heavy five miles away. A steady, incoming stream of wounded soldiers had kept the white gowned doctors and nurses busily working in the O.R. for many weary hours. Only the sounds of low talking and instruments clanging were heard with the occasion remarks of medical personnel fighting fatigue, boredom, and horror.

“Whoopee!” Trapper John McIntire exclaimed as he held aloft a bloody bullet. “There it is! A silver slug from right beside his croquet ball.”

“Careful, Trapper,“ Hawkeye Pierce cautioned from the next table “Don’t cut off that croquet ball in your excitement, or that croquet mallet right next to it, either. That young fellah might have some use for them stateside.”

“Can the chatter,” Frank Burns demanded. “There are ladies present, you know.”

“Sorry, we offended you, Frank,” Hawkeye said and winked at his nurse.

“Yeah,” Trapper agreed. “We thought you knew all about croquet mallets and croquet balls. Or what they were really supposed to be used for, and not just target practice.”

“Colonel!”

“Pierce! McIntire!” Blake hollered.

“Sponge,” Hawkeye said, then leaned towards his nurse as she handed him a sponge. “Well, Hot Lips, how about it? Want to toss old sourpuss Frank aside for some real fun tonight?”

“Colonel, can’t you make those idiots shut up while we’re operating? I can’t concentrate,” Burns complained.

“Don’t blame us for your lack of concentration, Frank,” Trapper said.

“Yeah,” Hawkeye agreed. “What was your excuse before you met us? Your crib toys? The flies buzzing around road kill? Your Sunday School teacher‘s cute rear end? Anything?”

“Colonel! I almost clipped an artery!”

“That’s not our fault, Frank!” Hawkeye thundered.

“How good is your patient’s insurance?” Trapper asked.

“Can it, Pierce,“ Blake said wearily. “You, too, MacIntyre.”

“I expect his Sunday School teacher’s rear end was safe from scrutiny, Hawkeye. Old Frank couldn’t even concentrate on a woman’s behind for longer than a second,” Trapper interjected. “Probably doesn‘t know its purpose, either.”

“Yeah,” Hawkeye agreed. “So don’t blame us for your trouble, Frank. We can’t help it if you’ve got a small brain. Complain to your parents.”

“Colonel!”

“Come on, Frank,” Hawkeye begged. “I got to do something to keep awake through twelve hours of operating. And your sterling conversation sure isn’t helping matters any. But now since you’ve opened that flytrap that you call a brain, why don’t you close it before an eagle makes a nest in it?“ He paused while he snipped. “There,” he said softly to his nurse. “He’s done, Major Houlihan. Bring on the next slab of meat.“ He glanced across the room. “Don’t tell me he did what I told him? Yoo-hoo! Frank! You still there?”

Trapper took the time to glance at Burns’ head lowered over his work. “Dr. Pierce, I think you’ve accomplished the impossible. You hurt Major Burns’ feelings.”

“Impossible!“ Hawkeye stepped aside while orderlies lay a new wounded GI on his operating table. “Toads don’t have feelings.”

Frank Burns put down his scalpel and started to walk away, but Henry Blake stepped in front of him.

“You’ve never let a patient down yet, Frank,” Blake said. “Continue your operation. As for you, Pierce and MacIntyre, all of our ears could stand a little rest. Let’s use our energy to fight the enemy, not each other. Alright?”

“See, Trap? He’s a silver tongued devil, just like I said.”

 

Many long hours later, a tired Trapper McIntire and Hawkeye Pierce were removing their gowns in the scrub room when an equally tired Frank Burns and Margaret Houlihan entered.

“Beat you done, Frank!” Trapper bragged.

“I wasn’t aware that a race was going on,” Burns remarked dryly.

Hawkeye leaned toward Burns. “When you take of your gloves, Frank, better count your fingers and make sure all twelve of them are still there.”

“I’ve got only ten fingers!”

With mocking sympathy, Hawkeye said, “Oh, heavens! We’re too late with our warning, Trapper.“ He smiled and slapped Frank’s arm’ “But, cheer up, Frank! You can always operate with your feet, which will improve your operating technique. And that’ll make your patients happy. Anything will be an improvement.”

“Oh!” Burns tore off his gown and threw it into the dumpster.

“Oh!” Hawkeye said, acting equally offended and in a snit.

Frank Burns stomped out.

“But, Major Burns,” Margaret called after him. “You didn’t wash up!”

Trapper and Hawkeye grinned at each other.

“Why are you two so rotten to him?” Margaret demanded as she turned to them.

“Sweets to the sweet, my dear,” Hawkeye answered. “Speaking of sweets, have I got a treat for you….”

“Not interested,” she said as she tossed her gown and fluffed her blonde hair.

“Come on, Hot Lips,” Hawkeye pleaded. “You’re just wasting yourself on Frank Burns. Why not be friendlier with a guy who appreciates the finer things, both of them?”

“Frank is a gentleman and a man who goes by the Army rulebook,” she replied airily.

“And about as much fun as a case of dysentery, I expect,” Trapper agreed.

“You’ll have to excuse me.”

“Where are you going for fun and games tonight? Your tent or….“ Hawkeye leaned toward Trapper and put a hand on his shoulder.

Hawkeye and Trapper sang together: “Down by the old millstream?”

“Oh, you two!” she exclaimed as she stomped out of the scrub room.

“Be careful down there!” Hawkeye called after her. “Henry goes fishing in that stream! He wouldn’t want to hook your panties as they come floating by!“ He nudged Trapper. “Come on. Let’s get the poker game started. Frank won’t be there to bitch about the lights being on tonight. He‘s going to be otherwise occupied. I don‘t mean writing love letters back to his wife in Indiana.”

Trapper grinned in agreement. 

 

The next morning Trapper and Hawkeye, both wearing bathrobes, wove sloppily into the Command tent.

“Morning, Radar,” Hawkeye mumbled, sleepily. “Henry wanted to see us.”

Radar gave them an evasive look. “Go right in, Sirs.”

“Wonder what his problem was?” Trapper asked.

“Maybe he was offended that you hadn’t shaved, yet.”

Trapper grunted in agreement as they entered Henry Blake’s office.

Hawkeye collapsed into a chair. “You wanted to see us, Henry?” Trapper collapsed beside him and grunted a greeting, also.

Blake sat forward behind his desk. “Yes. Have you guys seen Frank Burns?”

Hawkeye grinned at Trapper. “Don’t ask us. Ask Hot Lips.”

“I can’t. She’s gone, too.”

Trapper grinned at Hawkeye. “Maybe they eloped.”

“This is serious, you guys. North Koreans penetrated almost to our camp last night. We think they got as far as the stream.”

“The stream! Our stream? But that’s where—”

“That’s where what, McIntire?”

“Nothing.”

“Where Frank meets Hot Lips? I mean, Major Houlihan?”

Hawkeye had become thoughtful during the last minute. “Just what are you trying to tell us, Henry?”

“Nobody’s seen Frank and Margaret, We think that the North Koreans captured them.” A moment’s silence passed while Henry watched Trapper and Hawkeye glance at each other and digest his information. “We think they’re prisoners.”

Hawkeye jumped to his feet, all signs of tiredness gone. “That just doesn’t happen to M.A.S.H personnel, Henry. We‘re doctors.”

“Well, it’s happened now.”

“But, why?” Trapper asked as he stood beside Hawkeye. “Did the Koreans want a doctor?”

“They must be desperate if they got Frank,” Hawkeye muttered absently.

“I don’t know why they were taken, guys. They’re just gone. There isn’t a trace of them, except signs of a struggle and a little blood.”

Hawkeye‘s eyes blazed. “Well, what’s been done about it?!”

“Take it easy, Hawkeye. Headquarters has notified their patrols to watch out for them.”

“But that won’t do any good!” Hawkeye declared, pacing. “It could take months! And by that time, there could be a weak-mouthed bastard with big tits running around in North Korea.”

“Or two grave markers with medical shields on them,” Trapper said ominously.

Hawkeye leaned down into Henry’s face. “Henry, can’t they send out a search party?”

Henry shook his head. “Not for two people. You know better than that, Hawkeye. This is a war zone. It’s not like they got lost at a Sunday School picnic. Besides, where would you start looking?”

Hawkeye straightened. “So, you’re saying that nothing’s being done.”

Henry looked at him levelly. “That’s what I’m saying. Look, guys, I don’t like this any better than you do. But that’s all we can do.”

“Nothing,” Trapper said with a dark scowl on his face.

“That’s about it, guys,” Henry answered.

“Come on, Trapper,” Hawkeye muttered. “Let’s go glory in all the room we’ve inherited in the Swamp.”

 

Frank Burns and Margaret Houlihan huddled over coffee in a cold and dismal North Korean tent. 

“Is he going to be okay, Frank?”

“I’ve done all I can. Now, all we can do is wait.“ He glanced at her. “How‘s your nose?”

“Tender. I didn‘t expect that soldier to hit me back.”

“You‘re my hero, Margaret. You stepped in and stopped him from shooting me. He thought I was going for a gun when all I wanted to do was to pull my pants up.”

“First thing my father taught me, Frank. When the other guy has a gun, move slowly.”

“Makes sense.” He sipped his coffee. “You ought to get some rest, Margaret.” He glanced around the tent. “It’s not the plushest place I’ve ever been in, but at least we don’t have to worry that Pierce or McIntyre will walk in.”

“Right now, I’d love to see either of them. Anybody, not in a North Korean uniform.”

“Yeah, Frank agreed thoughtfully. “Me, too.”

“What if the General dies? What happens to us then?”

“Well, we won’t have to worry about what my wife will say about us, anymore.”

“Frank!”

“ Sorry. I guess that’s gallows humor, isn’t it?“

“It isn’t very funny, Frank. It sounded like something Pierce or McIntire would say. Maybe you‘ve been around them too long.“

“To think that this is the way it could all end. Here, in this forlorn section of Hell that I’d never even heard about until two years ago. And with people I would’ve never picked to be with in a thousand years.”

“Frank!”

“I didn’t mean you, Margaret. You’ve been a beacon.”

“That’s better.” She studied her coffee cup. “I wonder what’s going to happen to us.”

Frank looked at her frightened eyes and closed his hand over hers. “I don’t know, Margaret. I don’t even know if M.A.S.H knows we’re gone.”

A rustling sound was heard and Hawkeye entered the tent with a North Korean soldier, stunning Frank and Margaret.

“We know you’re gone, Frank. But did you and Hot Lips have to go to these extremes for privacy?”

Frank jumped up. “Pierce! What are you doing here? Were you captured, too?”

“I don’t understand it,” Hawkeye said. “We were just taking a stroll down by the stream—”

You’re all heart, Doctor,” Margaret said, then glanced at his arm. “Why, you’ve been shot!”

Frank grabbed Hawkeye’s arm. “Here, let me see!”

Hawkeye grimaced. “Easy there, Frank. It’s attached. And the nerves are all alert and operational.”

“Sorry.” He explored it gently. “I’ll fix it for you.”

“Never mind me,” Hawkeye said. “It’s just a scratch. Bleeding a little. Hot Lips can tie a rag around it later. Right now, we’re got a real patient waiting for us.”

“Who?” Frank asked as he fussed with Pierce’s arm.

Hawkeye looked grim. “Trapper. Got it in the gut. He looks like hell. Let‘s go.”

“Your arm needs attention.”

“Later. Later. First, help Trapper. He’s bad, Frank.”

Burns frowned at Pierce‘s concern. McIntire must be very bad. “Where is he?” Frank demanded.

Hawkeye looked relieved. “Over with your prize general.”

“Let’s go!“ Frank said.

The four left the tent with Frank leading the way. 

“How bad is McIntire, Pierce?”

“Nasty,” Hawkeye answered as they slogged through the chilly night air. “Fragments are extensive. It’ll call for some tricky surgery.”

They pushed inside the tent and saw Trapper who lay writhing on an operating table. 

“I gave him some morphine,” Hawkeye said. “Looks like it hasn’t taken effect yet.” He leaned down over the table. “Trapper? Trapper, can you hear me? Look what the hounds chased out of the bushes.”

Trapper opened his eyes, looked at Frank and Margaret, and started a grin that ended in a grimace of pain.

“Hey!” he said weakly.

Hawkeye grinned, too, with glistening eyes. “How about that, huh? Okay, huh?”

“We found them, Hawkeye!” Then he slipped into unconsciousness.

Burns stared at Pierce. “Found us? You came out looking for us? Why?”

“To find out what to do with your cot,” Hawkeye answered with irritation in his voice. “It was in the way. We kept stumbling over it. But Henry wouldn’t let us dispose of it until it was confirmed that you didn’t need it anymore.” He bit his lips together. “Come on, Frank! Why the hell do you think we came out here?! To get our butts shot off?! Don’t answer that. That’s just exactly what happened.” He turned. “Margaret, what’s wrong with this jerk, anyway?”

Margaret paid him no attention. She had other, more pressing issues on her mind as she looked up from her patient. “Frank, MacIntyre is unconscious and weakening.”

“We’ll have to operate at once. I’ll assist you, Pierce.”

Hawkeye blanched. “I can’t operate.”

“Why not?”

“My arm. I’m too shaky.” He stared at the operating table. “Besides, besides, Trapper’s my friend. I can’t cut into him. It’d be like cutting into myself.” He looked up. “You do it, Frank. It won’t bother you.”

Burns flushed and turned away quickly. “Are you sure you want me to work on your buddy?! After all, I’m such an oaf with a scalpel!”

“Rise above yourself, Frank! Don’t get touchy now. You might use a saw like a house builder, but you’re the only chance Trapper has.”

Margaret took Frank’s arm. “Don’t let him get to you, Frank,” she said to his face filled with fear and doubt. “Remember the important thing is that a wounded man needs your help. You‘re the only thing between life and death for him.”

Frank stared at her. “Me?“

“Yes. Pierce can’t do it. You’re the only one who can.“

“Well-l-l-l,“ he said unsure.

“Frank. We’ve talked about this. Remember?“

He looked at her, and an eyebrow went up. “Really?“

“Really,“ she reassured him. “When this is over. And we’re home. In my tent. You‘ll get a real hero‘s welcome.”

Frank gave her a silly grin.

“I don‘t care what he gets,” Hawkeye said. “Just take care of Trapper first.”

Margaret smiled at Frank. “I‘ll even find the whip.”

“Do you mind?” Hawkeye demanded. “Leave me some illusions that he‘s still a man.”

“What do you know about it, Pierce?”

“Apparently, now a lot more than I wanted to know, Frank.” He nodded at Trapper. “Your patient?”

“He‘s right, Frank,” Margaret promised. “Anything.“ And her eyes held a promise. “But, first--” Her eyes slid toward Trapper.

Frank nodded at her and gave her a thin grin, then straightened. “Alright. Let’s get started,” he said with new authority in his voice. “Margaret, get the ether. Pierce, get out of here. You’d be no help to me, or the patient.”

“Frank, he could assist, too.”

Burns studied the apprehensive, yet determined Hawkeye Pierce and developed some compassion. “No, he’s the patient’s family. Out, Pierce,” he said, steely-eyed.

Hawkeye happily complied.

Later, in the wee hours of the morning, Hawkeye leaned against a jeep outside the North Korean O.R. tent and watched its door. A bored guard stood nearby. Hawkeye straightened when he saw Margaret come out of the tent and walk toward him.

Margaret smiled as she wearily approached him. “McIntire’s going to be okay.” She saw his immediate relief. “Frank thinks he got it all.”

Hawkeye grinned as he leaned toward her. “Hot Lips, that makes me so happy, I could kiss you.“ He started to put his arms around her.

Margaret pulled away from his arms. “Captain Pierce! Stop it!”

The moment Hawkeye touched her, he fainted and started to slide to the ground. Margaret grabbed him and went down with him. 

Margaret slapped his face, and he moaned. “Hawkeye! Hawkeye!“ His head settled on her shoulder. She saw how pale and exhausted he was. “You crazy idiot!“ She gave him a quick hug, then looked toward the tent. “Frank! Frank! Come quick!”

Frank Burns ran out of the tent, saw Margaret on the ground with Hawkeye in her arms, and dropped to her side. “What happened?”

“He passed out. He must be hurt worse than he let on.”

Frank glanced at Hawkeye’s arm and then his ashen face. “He’s lost a lot of blood, that’s all. Let’s get him inside and patch him up.” He stuck a vial of smelling salts under Hawkeye’s nose.

Hawkeye sputtered awake and saw who it was. “Go away, Frank. Your breath is awful.” He gave Margaret a lazy smile. “So that’s what it takes to get your arms around me, huh?”

“Shut up, Pierce,” she answered as she helped Burns.

Hawkeye continued with the lazy smile. “Hot Lips, don’t let anybody say you’re an amateur when it comes to kissing. It knocked me off my feet.”

Frank Burns shot a look at Margaret who shook her head in denial.

“I just don’t know why you waste all that talent on Frank.”

“He’s a gentleman, Pierce. Now, shut up, so we can help you!” She roughly grabbed Hawkeye who grimaced and yelped in pain.

Frank shot her another questioning look. This time it was a doctor sternly reprimanding his nurse.

“Sorry,“ Margaret mumbled.

“I’ll let you make it up to me later, Margaret,” Hawkeye said with a dreamy look on his face. “I’ll let you decide how. Just, no whips. I’ll let that be your special thing with Frank. But if you can’t come up with anything else, I’ve got a whole lot of attractive suggestions I think you’d appreciate.”

Frank’s look said to humor the patient and that surprised Margaret. Maybe Pierce was worse than she figured.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Soldier.”

“Why, Margaret, I’ll get better just so you can see me in action.”

Frank nodded to Margaret in approval, then he pulled Hawkeye gently up and motioned to the North Korean guard to help. “ Come on, Pierce. You can talk to your nurse later.”

 

Hawkeye lay on a cot inside the North Korean tent and inspected his bandaged arm. “You patched me up pretty good, Frank. At least you plugged the leak.”

Frank Burns nodded toward Hawkeye. “Lucky for you I didn’t have to saw off that arm. That bullet nicked an artery.”

Hawkeye nodded grimly. “No wonder those North Koreans looked at me like they were seeing a ghost. They were.”

“Yes, you’re fairly bloodless, “ Burns agreed. “You’re going to need a transfusion.”

Hawkeye glanced at Margaret with her rolled-up shirtsleeve. “Your blood, Hot Lips? Nothing could make me happier. Maybe, later on, we could talk about further exchanges of bodily fluids.”

“Can it, Pierce.” Burns looked away. “I need some cotton, Margaret.”

Margaret handed cotton to him. “Your patient has passed out again, Doctor.”

“Good. Now, let’s get that blood in him so he’ll wake up again.”

 

It was very late inside the tent, and Frank Burns huddled on a wooden stool in the light of a single lantern. Margaret entered the tent and put her arm around his shoulders.

“How are they?” she asked as she glanced at the three men on the cots.

“Sleeping peacefully,” Burns answered.

“Why don’t you do the same?” she asked softly.

“Can’t.”

“I could watch them.”

“No.”

“I could let you know if there’s any change.”

Frank smiled weakly and patted her hand. “As tired as I am, I couldn’t sleep. I got to be with them and the General.”

“I know you do,” she said softly.

“You go ahead and get some rest. You’re exhausted, too.”

“Alright.” She looked at him. “Call if you need me.”

Frank smiled thinly. “I need you, but this isn’t the time or the place.”

She looked at their patients. “They’re asleep.” She looked back at Frank.

“And the old man just doesn’t have the steam tonight.“ He slapped her rump. “So, go on. Get out of here.”


	2. Chapter 2

Henry Blake sat working on papers at his desk. Radar and Frank Burns entered, but Henry didn‘t look up.

“Sir,” Radar said.

Henry still didn’t look up. “Later, Radar. I’m busy.”

“But—”

“I said later, Radar,” Henry said absently. “I‘m trying to figure out how to tell Brass how one of our surgeons and our head nurse disappeared.” He stared into space. “Then I need to get their replacements up here. I don‘t know if anybody can replace them.”

“But, Colonel--”

Henry wiped a hand across his weary face. “Later, Radar.”

“Okay, sir.” He turned to Frank. “I’m sorry, Major Burns. You’ll have to wait. Colonel Blake is very busy trying to find replacements for you, sir, and Major Houlihan.”

Frank Burns grunted in assent and turned to leave.

Henry looked up in disbelief. “Major Burns?!” He stood up, still in disbelief. “Frank?! How did you get back?” he asked and even he thought it sounded like a stupid question. That shouldn’t have been his primary concern, but he was simply stunned by Burns’ seemingly magical reappearance.

Frank shrugged. “The North Koreans released us. Their General lived.”

Henry finally woke up, grabbed Frank’s hand, and pumped it in greeting. “Are you okay? And Major Houlihan?”

“Fine. But Pierce and MacIntyre are in bad shape in sickbay.”

“Sickbay?” Henry chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, you’re wrong, Frank. Pierce and MacIntyre are in Tokyo on leave. They might land in jail there, but not in this sickbay.”

“So that’s how they did it,” Frank mused.

“Hmm?”

“They didn’t go to Tokyo, Colonel. They found us and got shot for their trouble.”

“Shot?!” Henry raced around his desk. “Are they hurt badly?”

“They won’t be able to work for awhile, but they’ll live to plague us again.”

“Frank, you shouldn’t feel that way about them. They tried every way they could to get help to you. I guess they decided to do it themselves.”

“And almost got killed for their efforts. It turned out I saved THEM.”

“But they TRIED, Frank. That’s more than you thought they’d ever do.”

“Yeah. I know. As they said to me, Who wanted the North Koreans to keep Margaret? Or words to that effect.” He rubbed his face. “I’m tired. I’m going to my quarters and get some rest.”

“At least you’ll have it to yourself.”

Frank grunted assent, but he didn’t seem too thrilled by that prospect.

Henry put his hand on Frank’s shoulder. “You do that, Frank. Radar!” he called as Frank walked out.

Radar was suddenly at Henry’s side. “Yes, sir?”

Henry tried to recover from his shock at Radar’s sudden appearance. “Have a hot meal sent to Frank at the Swamp.”

“It’s on its way, sir.”

“And type a letter to General Hamilton, telling him about the experience had by our four medical—”

Radar handed him some papers. “Here it is, sir. Ready for your signature.”

Henry took the papers and eyed Radar. “You’re efficient, Radar. Damned efficient.“ He pounded his desk. “But I wish you’d stop doing things before I asked for them!”

Radar backed away. “Y-Yes, sir.”

 

Frank slowly entered the Swamp, looked around, touched the moonshine still, picked up Hawkeye’s shirt, and placed it on Hawkeye’s cot. Then Frank lay on his own cot with his hands over his head. He glanced at the tent roof. The noise of silence was deafening. Frank shifted in boredom, finally sat on edge of his cot with his head down and his hands folded. At last he stared forlornly at Trapper and Hawkeye’s cots and sighed.

 

Henry Blake slouched into sickbay, stopped, stared at Hawkeye and McIntire as if he couldn’t quite believe it, and walked toward them shaking his head. He collapsed onto a cot near them and grimaced.

“Are you hurt bad, guys?”

“I got shot in my arm and lost a lot of blood. Trapper is worse. He was gut-shot.”

Blake stirred. “That is serious. How you doing, McIntire?”

“I’ve been better, Henry. But I’ll heal.”

“I didn’t know until Frank told me that I was missing four of my surgical staff, not just two. If there’s a silver lining to all this, it’s that I didn’t know I should be worried about you guys, too.” 

“We didn’t intend for it to play out this way, Henry. Did we, Hawkeye?”

Hawkeye shook his head. “It wasn’t even Plan F. But it worked. Eventually.”

Blake just shook his head. “Fellahs, what can I say? You know I can‘t do without you, don‘t you? And I don‘t mean just here as two surgeons.”

“How about, ‘Welcome home, you two big lugs,’” Hawkeye offered. “The nurses are welcoming us with kisses, but if it’s all the same to you, we’ll just pass.”

Blake studied them with a mixture of relief and pique on his face. “You should be up for a court martial, you know.”

“We found them, Henry.”

“But THEY brought you two back in ONE piece. Was that part of your plan?”

“Our plan was to find them, Henry,” Trapper answered. “I guess we hadn’t planned beyond that.”

“You guys! Don’t you know you have to have a get away plan, also?”

Hawkeye and Trapper looked at each other.

“Trapper and I don’t know what your problem is, Henry. We ‘got’ away.”

Henry just shook his head. “Confined to quarters when you get out of sickbay. Just be happy it isn’t a brig somewhere.” He stood and walked toward the door where he turned. “Oh, and, ‘Welcome home, you two big lugs!’”

Hawkeye grinned at Trapper. “See? He is trainable.”

“I don’t know. I kind of liked him in his wild state.”

Henry waved them away, then grinned. “And be gentle with the nurses, okay? They’re trying to win a war, not baby you two.”

Hawkeye and Trapper looked at each other and grinned.

 

Many days passed, and M.A.S.H. settled into a new routine of two of its main surgeons hospitalized, then convalescing in the Swamp. 

Hawkeye entered his quarters and glanced at Frank sprawled all over his cot. “What’s wrong with him?”

Trapper looked up from where he was lounging on his cot. “I expect he’s tired.”

Hawkeye sighed. “Aren’t we all?!“ He poured himself a cocktail. “Tell me, how do you like twenty-four hour leisure? Must be nice, living the life of Riley.”

“It’s not as nice as you’d think. Makes me feel like a heel when guys like Frank have to take a double shift to cover for me.”

“Double shift?” He sat down heavily on his cot. “Oh, boy!”

“What’s wrong?”

Hawkeye motioned toward Frank with his drink. “I thought he was reverting back to his old ways, you know, sloppy and lazy. In O.R. I chewed his butt for being slow.”

Trapper frowned. “You shouldn’t have done that, old buddy.”

“Yeah. NOW, you tell me. I’m so smart, it’s a wonder I don’t poke out an eye whenever I put a forkful of food to my face. I can’t find my mouth ‘cause I’m too busy shooting it off.”

“Don’t take on so. You didn’t know he was tired out.”

“That doesn’t help my conscience much.” He frowned. “Does he have to lie in that cramped position?”

Trapper shrugged. “That’s the way he dropped.”

Hawkeye crossed to Frank’s bunk. “He could at least have his boots off, couldn’t he?” He pulled Frank’s boots off and dropped them.

Trapper stood, too. “As long as you’re going that far, let’s tuck him in for the night.”

They stripped Frank down to his T-shirt and shorts while Frank acted like a loose sack of potatoes flopping every which way.

Trapper grinned. “Did he lose his skeleton, Hawk?”

“Watch your wound, Trapper. I’ll manage the heavy stuff.” He grunted. “This is just like handling a big baby.”

“Or a sack of half-dried cement.“ Trapper grinned. “Hot Lips could probably do this better for him.”

“And a whole lost faster.“ He glanced at Frank’s weak-mouthed face. “Wonder what she sees in him anyway?”

Trapper reached for Frank’s shorts. “Want to find out?”

Hawkeye held up his hands. “No, thanks! I’ve seen an Army rule book before. That’s all they’ve got in common.”

Frank frowned and mumbled, “Leave me alone, you guys.”

Hawkeye drew the covers over Frank, patted his cheek, and grinned wickedly. “Sweet dreams, lover.”

Frank stirred and smiled in his sleep. “Hmm. Margaret.”

Trapper and Hawkeye tiptoed away and laughed at a safe distance. 

“Imagine me!” Hawkeye said. “Hot Lips!”

“Better watch it!” Trapper advised. “Frank might make that same mistake when you’re both in the shower!”

“Yeah! Not even the sheep are safe!”

 

Days later, Trapper returned back to duty, and the regular grind of long hours of surgery interspersed with days of agonizing boredom set in. One such stint of endless surgery found Trapper and Hawkeye leaving the O.R. exhausted.

“Whew!” Trapper exclaimed while he rubbed his back. “That was a long siege! I feel like the Boston Strangler, except with a knife.”

“After Korea, I think I’ll be qualified for slaughterhouse work. Tell me, do they ever butcher bulls, or is it just cows and calves and steers?”

Trapper glanced at Hawkeye’s gray face. “Let’s go get some coffee.”

Hawkeye winced. “That slop?”

“You need caffeine, Buddy.”

“I need something. But I sure as hell don’t know if it’s caffeine.”

“Maybe we can find a couple of coffee-drinking nurses interested in anatomy by Braille.”

Hawkeye brightened. “Now, you’re talking my language.” He spotted someone. “Hey, Frank, you old goof-up! How about some—“ His voice dwindled as Frank scurried away. “--coffee?” He glanced at Trapper. “Do you get the feeling we’re being snubbed?”

“Probably has a hot date to explain the Bible to Father Mulcahy.” Trapper slapped Hawkeye’s shoulder. “Come on! We don’t need any Sunday school lessons! The nurses are waiting!“ He led Hawkeye away, but shot a disgusted look in the direction where Frank had disappeared.

 

Several nights later a poker game was in progress in the Swamp when Frank entered, flopped down on his cot, and turned his face to the side of the tent. Nobody paid him any attention. A few minutes later, Hawkeye entered, glanced at Frank, and then plowed into the poker game amid protests.

“That’s all, boys,” Hawkeye announced. “Game’s adjourned to the Painless Pole’s. Trapper, you’ve played enough for one night. ‘Night, guys.”

The others left grumbling and casting evil looks toward Hawkeye.

Trapper sat counting his chips. “Thanks, old buddy. I was winning.”

“Sorry,” Hawkeye said absently. “Maybe tomorrow your luck will change.”

Trapper gave Hawkeye an odd look. “Something wrong?”

Hawkeye leaned toward Trapper and said in a low voice, “Frank’s patient just died. You know, that kid with the bad kidney. The one Frank’s been so worried about. Henry thinks he’ll take it pretty hard.”

Trapper frowned, forgot his chips, and stood up. Together, he and Hawkeye approached Frank whose back was to them. 

“Frank, we’re sorry about the kid,” Hawkeye said.

“Yeah, old buddy,” Trapper agreed. “We know how you feel. We’ve lost guys, too.”

“Look, we know there isn’t, but if there’s anything we can do, let us know. Maybe you’d feel better if you talked it out with us.”

Frank mumbled, “Leave me alone.”

“We just want to help—” Trapper started.

Frank rolled over and glared at them. Tears glistened in his eyes. “You just want to laugh! I lost a patient! The clumsy oaf of 4077 M.A.S.H has struck again! Ha! Ha! Big joke!”

Trapper and Hawkeye looked pained at each other. 

Hawkeye said, “We’re not that callous, Frank. We know you’ve got feelings, too. We just want to help you.”

“Sure, you do! What will you do? Broadcast my tears over the loudspeaker? Present me with a black ribbon for a job well done?“ He turned away from them.

Hawkeye tried to say something, but, for once, couldn’t. He walked out of the Swamp. 

“We’ll send Father Mulcahy over,” Trapper said. “Maybe you’ll like his company better than ours.“ He squeezed Frank’s arm. “We do know how you feel, and we’re sorry. We really are, even if you don’t believe us.“ He paused. “You wounded the Hawk just now, Frank. He never wanted your blood, no matter what you’ve always thought. He might treat you rough once in awhile, but he has to do something crazy or he’d explode. I guess he and I just aren’t as strong as you are, Frank, or you might understand what I mean.“ 

Trapper stood up and left the Swamp.

Frank squeezed his eyes tightly shut and pushed his face into the pillow.

And all was quiet in the Swamp.

 

Trapper saw Hawkeye standing some distance away from the Swamp, just thoughtfully gazing into nothing. Nurses, doctors, and South Koreans passed him, patted his arm, and spoke to him, but he paid them no attention.

Trapper hurried to Hawkeye’s side. “Don’t let him get to you, Hawk. He’s upset. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

Hawkeye frowned. “Maybe not, but he’s right. Everything he’s said is true, or would have been if we’d thought of it.“ He stared at the distant hills without seeing them. “Trapper, I think it’s time we had a talk with Henry.”

They found Henry in his tent who listened, then carefully said, “Well, yes, I had noticed it, fellahs, and honestly, I’ve been puzzled by his behavior, too. He hasn’t been normal since you guys got back from the North Koreans.”

“Yeah,” Trapper agreed. “It’s just like somebody turned a light off in Frank. Nothing we do bothers him anymore. It’s like he just doesn’t care anymore.”

Henry couldn’t quite look at them. “ It could be battle fatigue.”

Hawkeye frowned. “Battle fatigue? Frank? The closest he comes to fighting is wrestling Hot Lips for kisses.”

“Maybe he’s sick,” Trapper offered. “Maybe he’s tired and needs a rest.”

Henry agreed nervously. “Could be. Ah, maybe he should get out of here.”

Trapper shrugged. “For a few days? Sure. Why not? This place gets to everybody once in awhile.”

“Yeah,” Hawkeye agreed. “And I haven’t helped him much, either. I bother the hell out of him, but damn it, he asks for it.”

Henry leaned toward them. “Listen to me a minute, you two. You both are fine surgeons, and you’ve done a great job out here so close to the front and with limited facilities. But so has Frank. I’ll admit he’s rich and stuffy and not as brilliant surgically as you guys, but he’s steady and dependable under fire. And that’s quite a lot to say about someone who grew up around expensive cars and vacations in Europe. It’s easy for us to adjust to primitive housing and poor working conditions. We’re used to those kinds of things. It’s amazing that Frank has become as ‘regular’ as he is now. You should have seen him before you came here. You’ve changed him a lot. No matter what happens, you guys should feel comforted in knowing that you humanized Frank Burns.”

“That’s a fine speech, Henry,” Hawkeye said, “but how do we get him to acting right again? He’s walking around like an injured bird. It’s starting to get to us.”

Henry avoided their eyes. “Maybe he’ll come around. In the meantime, try not to think about it. He’s just probably having a mood.”

Hawkeye stood up. “Okay, Henry.”

Trapper smiled briefly. “Thanks a lot.”

Henry smiled back as he looked at one, then the other. “Anytime, fellahs.” After they left his brow deepened in thought.

“Well, that sure as hell didn’t help,” Trapper said outside Henry‘s tent.

Hawkeye looked around in distraction. “Did you get the feeling he knew more than he wanted to let on?”

“But that he didn’t want two of his best surgeons staying upset so they couldn’t operate?”

The wind tossed Hawkeye‘s hair around for a few moments as he squinted against it. “Come on. Let’s go to the Painless Pole’s. Maybe we can win back last month’s pay in the poker game.”

 

The war continued for the soldiers on the front lines and for the doctors behind the lines trying to patch them up so they could fight again. That day was like any other with Trapper and Hawkeye slowly slogging their weary way across the muddy compound. They were both showing signs of tiredness from long hours of surgery as they headed toward the Swamp and their cots. Hot meals and showers would come later, later when luxuries like food and cleanliness would mean something. Now, they just had to sleep.

“How did it go, Hawkeye?”

“Finest kind,” Hawkeye answered with a tired smile. “All tough cases, but they should all make it. You?”

“Had a tricky one. Shell fragment beside the heart. I got it all, I hope, but I’ll have to watch him pretty closely.”

Hawkeye slapped Trapper on the shoulder. “The guy’s got the best chest cutter in Korea. He’ll make it. Hey, here comes old Frank. Wonder how many patients he maimed today? Hey, Frank! Have a tough day? I saw that one guy you got. Worst case of ingrown toenails I’ve ever seen.”

Frank opened his mouth to protest, looked pained instead, and walked away.

Hawkeye tried to act funny to cover his amazement. “Did I say something wrong?”

Trapper shrugged. “Maybe we got B.O., and he’s afraid he’ll hurt our feelings if he tells us.”

Hawkeye frowned. “Maybe someone removed his voice box.”

Trapper looked disgusted. “No such luck.”

“See you around.”

“Hey, aren’t you going to the Swamp? I thought you were tired!”

Hawkeye shook his head and wandered away. 

Trapper chased Frank down and grabbed his arm. “Look, I don’t know what’s bothering you, but leave Hawkeye alone!”

Frank looked surprised. “I am.”

“That’s what’s wrong! Get mad. Blow up. Something! This attitude of not caring what we do to you is plain spooky. Look, is something wrong? Have we done something that’s made you mad?”

Frank looked at Trapper oddly. “You can ask that? Why, everything you two have ever done--” He bit his mouth shut and looked away.

“Yes? What do you mean by that crack?” he demanded belligerently.

“Nothing. Not a thing. Forget I said it. It’s not important, anyway.”

“Look, if something’s wrong, just say so. Do I snore? Does Hawkeye scatter his clothes around? Just say so, and we’ll try to patch it up.”

“I didn’t think you noticed any difference.”

“Noticed?! You got us tiptoeing around like saints. It’s unnatural. You got us edgy. We’re starting to snap at people who don’t deserve it.”

“Sorry. I didn’t realize. I didn’t know that living with me had become that difficult. I’ll try to fix it up. Fast. Your quarters will be the way you want it. I promise.”

Trapper smiled as he slapped Frank’s shoulder. “Thanks, old buddy.”

“Do you mean that?”

Trapper tilted his head in puzzlement. “Mean what?”

“Nothing. Forget I said it.”

“Just so you don’t forget that you promised to change things.”

Frank tried to smile thinly as he edged away. “Yeah. Sure.”

 

“So, he’s going to change, eh?” Hawkeye asked Trapper as they stood drinking martinis in front of the still in the Swamp later. 

“That’s what he said. He just didn’t realized he’d been bothering us. Maybe Henry’s right. Maybe Frank should have a nice, long leave to Tokyo. Then he’d come back okay, and things could get back to normal around here.”

“Maybe Hot Lips could go with him.”

Trapper grinned. “Why not? Sounds great to me.”

Hawkeye walked absently away. “I’m not sure. There’s something more wrong here. I can feel it.”

“It’s just ‘cause Frank’s acting so strange, that‘s all.”

Hawkeye brightened. “Look, maybe if we pull one of our old tricks on him, he’ll snap out of it.”

“I don’t know—”

“It’s worth a try. Come on. We have to do something. All this peace and quiet’s getting to me.”

 

It was very late when Frank tiptoed into the Swamp, undressed quickly in the semi-darkened tent, and quietly slipped under his blanket. He stretched out, but a funny look came over his face. He reached under the blanket and retrieved a handful of oozy mud. He tossed his covers aside and jumped to his muddy feet. His face was angry as of old as he faced Hawkeye and Trapper’s cots. Suddenly, the anger was wiped away. He picked up his blanket and left.

Trapper stirred. “He almost did it. Did you see that face?”

“I don’t get it. What’s wrong with him? Why doesn’t he blow up? I thought he told you he was going to change.”

“Maybe he has to do it gradually.“ Trapper tried to distract Hawkeye. “Hey! We can have an all-night poker game now!”

Hawkeye turned over. “Go ahead, if you want. Me, I’d settle for some nice, quiet screaming from Frank.”


	3. Chapter 3

The endless line of wounded continued flooding in from the front. Another day found the surgeons of the 4077 M.A.S.H busily operating. Nobody operating could have said even what day it was.

“Sponges,” Hawkeye ordered. He looked up when his nurse didn’t promptly comply. “Come on, June. Snap it up!”

“Sorry, Hawkeye,” June apologized. “Guess I’m tired.”

“Sorry won’t help this man if he dies.”

Margaret pushed June aside. “I’ll help here, Phillips. You go over to Colonel Blake’s table.”

“Yes, Major. Thank you,” June said softly to Margaret.

“Just go.”

“Yes, Major.”

“Forceps,” Hawkeye ordered.

Margaret handed them to him. “Here, Doctor.”

Hawkeye glanced at her. “Oh, we got the first team in, have we?”

“Phillips was doing a good job, Captain Pierce. You didn’t need to snap at her.”

“Hemostat. Major, if you want to say something to me, pull rank and make me stand at attention. Otherwise, shut up and move that big butt of yours out of my way so I can work.”

Margaret blinked. At any other time, she wouldn’t have noticed what a grouchy, tired doctor said. But this had seemed so vicious, so personal. “Oh!” She backed up, looked lost, and started to run out of the O.R.

Frank caught her. “Margaret, what’s wrong?”

Margaret glanced at Hawkeye. “Nothing!”

“Did he say something?” When Margaret didn’t answer, he approached Hawkeye. “That’s it, Pierce. Pick on somebody your own size.”

“I was. Everybody knows she’s got the biggest—”

Frank swung a haymaker at Hawkeye who ducked. Henry stepped between them.

“That’s enough, you two,” Henry ordered. “Now, get back to your tables, or I’ll send you both out to the front so you can do some real fighting. Major Houlihan, you can assist me. If any nurse feels brave, she can assist Pierce.”

Hawkeye rolled his eyes in exasperation, caught the eye of a nurse who looked panicked, and nodded. “I promise, Larsen. Just get over here and help me. I can’t do it by myself.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“That’s better, Pierce. Alright, everybody get back to what we’re supposed to be doing. We’re here to save lives, not endanger them.”

“Sponge, Larsen.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Next patient!” Henry Blake called.

 

Two hours later found the wounded men still being brought into the O.R. in a constant stream. Doctors and nurses were exhausted and getting snappish.

“Come on, Sgt. Turner,” Hawkeye said to the nurse who had replaced Larsen somewhere on the endless conveyer belt of patients. “Stop thinking of this guy’s big bazooka and hand me a needle so I can sew it back together. In a few months, if he’s lucky and my cross-stitch holds, you might get to find out if he’s operational.”

Turner blushed. “Yes, Doctor.”

“Never saw surgery like this back in Chicago, I bet.”

“I never saw surgeons like these in Chicago, either, Doctor.”

Hawkeye glanced at her. “Well, honey, if we were back in Chicago right now, I’d show you some refined surgery and maybe some refined manners.”

“I wouldn’t care how refined you were,” Turner said wistfully. “Just so we were back in Chicago. All dressed up and getting ready for a night on the town.”

The corners of Hawkeye’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “Shirley, I think I love you.”

“And I think you need this sponge before your patient bleeds to death, Doctor.”

“Quick! Sponge. Get that next pint of blood ready to go!”

Meanwhile, at another operating table, another nurse was concerned about the doctor she was assisting. “Don’t you think you better rest awhile, Doctor?”

Frank Burns shook his head to clear it. “I’m okay, Hodges.”

“But, Major Burns—”

“I’m okay, I tell you. Now, give me that scalpel!” Frank made a grab for the instrument and missed it. The scalpel clanged to the floor. “Stupid! You made me drop it!”

“But—”

Frank, unbalanced, wove on his feet. “Get another scalpel! Hurry!”

“Please, Major—”

Frank pushed her aside. “I’ll get it myself!”

Hodges looked around frantically. “Hawkeye! Hawkeye! Help me!”

“What’s wrong, Dodie?” Hawkeye asked, as he approached calmly.

“It’s Major Burns!” Hodges answered. “Please make him go rest!”

Hawkeye grabbed Frank’s arm. “Come on, Frank. She’s right. You’re dead on your feet, pal. Go get some shuteye and come back later.”

Frank wove again on his feet, but managed to twist away from Hawkeye‘s hand. “Let go of my arm! I don’t need your help! Ever!” He charged for the door.

Hawkeye stared after Frank’s departing figure.

Trapper was suddenly at Hawkeye’s side. “What was that all about?”

“He’s bushed, that’s all,” Hawkeye mumbled as he turned away. 

“Come on, you guys,” Henry Blake ordered. “Back to work. This is no time for small talk.”

“Ever notice how Henry gets right to the heart of the matter, Trapper?”

“Yeah,” Trapper answered as they started back to their operating tables. “No messing around.“ Trapper made a slicing motion with his hand. “Just gets right to it.” 

But there was no mirth in his joke, and neither of them laughed, not even ironically. 

Hawkeye stopped at his table and glanced at the door a moment. He saw Margaret watching him, then she looked away quickly. She still was uneasy around him. Hawkeye sighed. Between Frank and Margaret, his human relationships score wasn’t doing too well.

“Doctor? Your patient?“ his nurse prompted.

“Right.“ Hawkeye drew his attention downward. “Get ready to retract, Nurse.”

 

Margaret grabbed at the neck of her robe as she answered the door of her tent. She frowned when she saw who it was. “Yes?“ she asked bitterly. “What do you want, Pierce?”

“To apologize,” Hawkeye answered earnestly.

Margaret opened her door further. “Apologize?” she asked skeptically.

“Yeah. I just got a small taste of eating humble pie. I’ve been talking to June Phillips. Now, I’m set for the main course.”

Margaret stepped aside. “Come in, if you want.“ Her voice had lost its edge, but she still didn’t trust him.

Hawkeye entered and fidgeted. “Look, I was wrong back in O.R. That was no way to talk to a nurse and, especially, to a lady. And to a person I consider to be more than a colleague. I messed up on so very many levels. I’m sorry I offended you.”

“You were tired, Doctor,” Margaret muttered, more for her benefit than his.

“That still doesn’t excuse the things I said. I’ve been a little edgy lately.“ He gave her his tired grin. “If I keep on, everybody’ll be mad at me, including the North Koreans, and they don’t even know me that well.”

Margaret turned away. “We’re all under a strain here, Doctor.”

Hawkeye got an earnest look on his face. “Look, there’s been a lot of differences between us. And there’s not that much love lost, either. But in O.R, we click. We’re a well-oiled team, and I always feel a little more confident with you by my side. You’re the best nurse who’s ever assisted me, and I’d hate like hell to lose you.“ He turned away. “But I, guess I have.”

Margaret turned back toward him. “Ah,” she started softly, finally convinced herself. “I’ll be assisting you again, Doctor, if that’s what you want.”

Hawkeye turned back to her and his face crinkled in a genuine smile. “Gee, I’d like that.”

Margaret covered his hand with hers. “Thanks for stopping by. You know, you’re a pretty nice guy when you want to be,” she said softly.

Hawkeye gazed at her fondly. “And you’re okay, too, Margaret. You really are. You understand how we guys caught up in this whole wacky war feel, even if you do have an Army Manual for a heart.“ He looked thoughtful. “You know, I’m kind of jealous of Frank. He might be a clod, but he’s smart enough to turn your head. And it’s a mighty pretty head to turn, too,” he added.

Margaret gazed into his eyes and said softly, “You’re full of baloney, Captain Pierce.”

“Could be, but I meant every word I said.“ He leaned toward her and kissed her cheek. “You’re kind of special, Major.”

Silently, they looked at each other. Then Hawkeye slowly brushed his hand across her cheek. He turned and left, with Margaret watching quietly until the door closed. 

Hawkeye returned to the Swamp and entered to find Trapper lounging on his cot.

Trapper looked up from the month old news magazine that he was reading. “Where have you been? School was out over an hour ago.”

“Mending fences,“ Hawkeye answered, then glanced around. “Where’s Frank?”

“I don’t know.” Trapper suddenly remembered. “Hey, what happened in O.R.? You two had a couple of fights, didn’t you?”

“He cracked up. We sent him out to get some rest.”

“Cracked up?” Trapper sat up and took notice. “Anything bad?”

“No. Just nerves and fatigue. Could describe any of us.“

Trapper grunted in assent.

Hawkeye stepped toward Frank’s cot. “Look at that. Neat and clean. Like he hadn’t even slept in it. You could bounce a quarter on this blanket.” He glanced around. “Hey! Where’s his stuff?”

Trapper looked up. “Huh?”

Hawkeye frowned and looked some more. “You know. His important stuff. His Bible, his mother’s picture, his worn copy of the Army Manual. Everything’s gone. His shelves are clean.”

Trapper laid his magazine down and stood up. “Are they?” He looked around. “Well, how about that!”

Hawkeye glanced at Trapper. “What the hell’s going on with him?”

Frank entered, swathed in a robe and towel. “Excuse me, Captain Pierce.”

Hawkeye wrinkled his brow. “’Captain?’ ‘Excuse me?’ What’s with you, Frank? Look. It’s me, Hawkeye. Hawkeye Pierce, your old Army buddy. You flipped out or something?”

Frank stopped humming a tuneless song and glanced at Hawkeye. “No.” He stepped past Hawkeye. “Excuse me now. I have to dress.”

Hawkeye and Trapper exchanged puzzled glance and then, as with a common accord, they headed for the Still. 

 

It was very late that same night when Hawkeye entered the Swamp and looked around. “Is he back yet?”

Trapper shook his head. “You couldn’t find him, either?”

Hawkeye sat on his cot and absently flicked his thumbnail against a match head. “Where the hell is he? There just aren’t that many places to hide around here. And where’d he spend last night? And the night before that?”

“Maybe we’re worrying for nothing. Maybe he’s with Hot Lips.”

“No dice. Hot Lips is helping Henry operate. And her tent is empty.”

“Well, if she doesn’t know where he is, nobody would.”

“Trapper, I could kiss you!”

“No, thanks,” Trapper said dryly. “You’re not my type. I like bigger butts on my girls.”

Hawkeye grinned. “Sure. Hot Lips! Why didn’t I think of her before?”

Trapper sighed wistfully. “We’ve all thought about Hot Lips, at one time or another. But that’s about as far as we can ever get.“ He brought himself back to the present problem. “You think she knows where Frank is?”

“More important than that, she might know why he’s acting so strange. Come on. She should be out of O.R. by now.”

 

Margaret answered the knock at her tent. “Who is it?”

“The merry elves of mischief,” Hawkeye answered.

“Go away. I just got out of surgery. I’m tired. I just want to get some sleep.”

“We want to get some sleep, too,” Hawkeye answered. 

“This isn’t a hotel. Go to your own quarters.”

Hawkeye grinned viciously over his shoulder at Trapper. “Don’t you love it when they play hard to get?”

Trapper grinned in agreement.

“We want to talk to you, Margaret.”

“I’m not dressed.”

“Well, get something on,“ Hawkeye said in exasperation. “You don’t have to doll up for us. We just want to talk to you, not have mad, passionate love with you.”

Margaret opened the door after a moment. “What do you want to talk about?”

Hawkeye walked past her with Trapper following him. “Frank.” He looked back at her. “What’s with him, anyway?”

Margaret gave them a hard look. “The same problem he’s always had. You two.”

“Come on, Hot Lips,” Hawkeye appealed with his hand extended. “There’s more to it than that. Since we got back from the North Koreans, he’s changed.”

“Yeah,” Trapper echoed. “We can’t kid him anymore. He doesn’t even act like we’re here. It’s plain creepy. It bothers us.”

Margaret folded her arms and said with satisfaction, “Well, it won’t have to bother you much longer.”

Hawkeye frowned. “What do you mean?”

Margaret unfolded her arms, looked wary, then said more cautiously. “N-nothing.“ She started to move away.” I can’t say anymore. I promised.”

Hawkeye grabbed her arm. “Come on, Hot Lips. Has he gotten himself into some trouble? Maybe we could help out the big schmuck.”

Margaret wheeled with angry tears in her eyes. “You two! You’re the cause of all his troubles! If you’d just left him alone! But, no! You had to have your fun! Well, he’s tired of being the butt of your jokes!”

Hawkeye frowned at her. “Major, it’s because he is such a ‘butt’, as you so nicely put it, that we can get away with teasing him,” he said slowly. “He almost makes it too easy for us. Right, Trapper?”

Trapper nodded in agreement. “Right.”

Margaret pointed at the door. “Why don’t you two just leave?!”

“Not until we get a few things straightened out. Trapper and I think Frank is overworked and needs a change of scene. He wouldn’t listen to us, but maybe you could talk him into getting a two-week pass to Tokyo. Could you do that?”

Margaret stared at them, amazed. “A two-week pass? To Tokyo?”

Trapper shrugged. “Sure. A pass for rest and relaxation. Surely you’ve heard of that. It’s done every day.”

Hawkeye smiled. “That would fix everything up. Then he’d be rested up to come back to work.”

Margaret tried to adjust herself to what they were saying. “Sure. Why not? I’ll try. You know,” she said, searching for words. “Frank’s been thinking of going away, too.”

“See?“ Hawkeye grinned at Trapper. “I told you she’d help. She’s a great gal, even if she does have poor tastes in men. And, Hot Lips, tell Frank not to worry about his work load while he’s gone. Henry will be happy to see the mortality rate for this M.A.S.H go down.”

Margaret opened her mouth to say something, but tears sprang into her eyes, instead. “You’ll have to excuse me now. I’ve had a long day.”

Hawkeye frowned. “Sure thing, Margaret. Come on, Trapper. Let’s go celebrate.” But he didn’t sound as if he were a man about to party.

“Well, we got that solved, “ Trapper said happily as they walked away from Margaret‘s tent.

Hawkeye wrinkled his brow. “I don’t know. Did you see how she reacted to that last remark I made? Generally, she’d be all over me, cussing me out. This time, she looked like she was going to cry.”

Trapper shrugged. “Maybe she’s got cramps.”

“I don’t think so. That’s probably something she and Frank celebrate each month.”

Trapper slung an arm around Hawkeye’s shoulders. “What say we head down to the Painless Pole’s for a little poker? I understand there’s a greenhorn fresh to camp that thinks he’s a Las Vegas dealer.”

“Don’t tangle with him. He IS a Las Vegas dealer.”

“How do you know?”

Hawkeye turned his pockets out. “I tried him this afternoon.”

“Oh, ho! But has he met up with the Mad Better from Boston?”

“Just so you won’t become the Sad Better from Boston.”

 

It was very late as Hawkeye sneaked into the semi-dark Swamp and began shaking Trapper awake. “Trapper. Wake up.”

“Hmm?” Trapper mumbled. “Is that you, honey?”

“No, I’m the one with the small butt, remember?“ Hawkeye shook him again. “Come on. Wake up. I have something to show you.”

Trapper turned over to face Hawkeye. “Not another greenhorn gambler, I hope. My pocketbook can’t stand too many more meetings like that.”

“Something else. Come on. Here’s your boots.” He accidentally nudged something in the dark that fell crashing to the floor.

“Careful. You’ll wake up Frank.”

“Not a chance,” Hawkeye mumbled.

Trapper yawned and asked sleepily as he pulled on his pants and boots, “What time is it, anyway? Nearly dawn?”

“Never mind that.” 

“Why all the secrecy?“ Trapper asked as he pulled himself to his feet and stumbled after Hawkeye.

Hawkeye grinned. “It’s Christmas, Trap. Santa Claus has left us a present.”

Hawkeye led Trapper through the pre-dawn camp to the supply room next to O.R. Hawkeye slithered through the door and a sleepy Trapper followed.

“What are we doing in here? Are you wanting to show me the scene of your latest conquest?’

“S-h-h!” Hawkeye cautioned. “Look in here.”

Hawkeye opened a closet door. Amid some boxes, Frank Burns lay curled in a small ball on the floor with an Army blanket thrown over him.

“What the—”

“S-h-h! Don’t wake him up.” Hawkeye grinned. “This is where he’s been spending his nights, apparently.”

Trapper stepped forward. “Well, let’s wake him up and take him home.”

Hawkeye grabbed Trapper’s arm. No! We’ll leave him. He apparently doesn’t want our company, so we won’t force ourselves on him. But at least I know where he is. Maybe I can sleep now.”

Trapper led Hawkeye away. “I’ll vote for that. Your insomnia was wearing me out.”

 

Early the next morning, Trapper opened his bloodshot eyes. “What’s all that noise outside? What‘s all the yelling about?”

“I don’t know,” Hawkeye answered, “but I wish it’d go away. I got a solid two hours sleep.”

The door to the Swamp burst open, and Radar ran in.

“Hey, fellahs! Come quick if you really want to see something!”

“I told you that would happen if you gave him his own key,” Trapper complained.

“What can I say? Other teenagers have keys.“

“Guys!”

Hawkeye threw a pillow in Radar‘s general direction. “Go away, Radar.”

Trapper concurred. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “We’re tired.”

Radar grinned slowly. “Sure, you sirs would be, wouldn‘t you? You were up all night pulling this off, weren’t you? That’s why you don’t care to see it. You already know what it is.”

Hawkeye opened an eye. “What are you babbling about?’

“Why, Major Burns, sir. He’s tied onto a raft in the middle of the river.”

Hawkeye sat up quickly. “What?!”

“Boy, you guys can really think of funny things to pull!”

Trapper pulled on boots, all thoughts of sleepiness gone. “Afraid we can’t take credit for this one, Radar.”

“Huh? Then who did it, sirs?”

Hawkeye pushed past him toward door. “That’s the second thing we have to do. First, we have to get Frank out of that water. I don’t know how good he is at breathing like a fish.”

A curious crowd of half-dressed people had gathered on the riverbank. They watched a raft violently bobbing in the water, caught against some debris. Frank’s screams, muffled by deluges of water, could be plainly heard.

“Oh, gosh, sirs!” Radar said with alarm. “The rope must’ve broken loose!” He followed Hawkeye and Trapper as they rushed toward the riverbank.

“What’s the score, Henry?” Hawkeye asked as he and Trapper stopped at Henry Blake’s side.

“It’s bad, guys. It just got worse a moment ago. The rope broke and the raft started downstream. Luckily, it caught on some debris. But the current being what it is this morning, the debris won’t hold that raft very long. And if that raft breaks away, Frank could drown.”

Margaret grabbed Hawkeye’s arm. “Help him, Hawkeye! Please!”

“Has anybody gone out there?” Hawkeye demanded.

Henry shook his head. “The current’s pretty high. It must’ve rained up in the mountains after he got put on that raft. Otherwise, nobody would’ve pulled this crazy stunt. Who knew there would be a flood? That’s what must have broken this rope that held the raft to shore. If that debris lets go, Frank will be long gone.”

Hawkeye pulled off his boots. “Come on, Trapper!”

“Wait, you two! We sent for—”

“And by the time they got here, Frank could be the newest island in the South China Sea!”

Hawkeye and Trapper swam out to the raft. They struggled with the current and finally managed to drag the raft ashore. They untied Frank and helped him to his feet as people crowded around the wet threesome.

Henry stood watching with a disgusted look on his face. “That’s a pretty shabby trick, Hawkeye, even for you.”

Hawkeye straightened. “Huh?”

“I know you two have been fighting, but this is no way—”

“I didn’t do this, Henry. I wouldn’t deliberately do anything to hurt Frank. Trapper wouldn‘t, either.”

“I know. You just thought it’d be a cute trick to tie him to the raft. You didn’t know the rope would break. That was an accident. But you still did it!”

“We didn’t do it, Henry.”

“That’s going to be awfully hard to prove. He was available to you and McIntire, being in your tent and all.”

“He hasn’t been in the Swamp the last few nights.”

“Then you found out where he was sleeping—”

“Yes, we did! Only because we wondered where in the hell he was. But we didn’t do this.”

“I’m sorry, Hawkeye. This time you and Trapper are really in trouble.”

Frank straightened, after leaning weakly against Trapper. “Wait!”

Trapper caught the weaving man. “Don’t try to talk, pal. Save your strength. This can keep.”

Frank shook his head and pushed away from Trapper. “No! I’m okay.“ He turned to Henry Blake. “Colonel, it wasn’t them.”

“What?!”

Frank coughed, as Margaret put a concerned hand on his arm. “Pierce and MacIntyre didn’t do it.”

“Don’t cover for them, Frank,” Blake urged.

Hawkeye stepped toward Frank. “Who did do it?”

Frank shook his head. “I won’t say. It was just some guys having fun.”

Hawkeye looked at Frank’s ashen face. “Fun?! Hell! They could’ve killed you!”

“It backfired on them,” Frank said. “They’ve paid enough already.”

Hawkeye stubbornly looked at Frank’s equally stubborn face, then glared at the assembled crowd. “Whoever did this, lay off! Frank’s our patsy! Go find your own schmuck! Or you’ll have me and Trapper John to deal with!“ He dismissed them with a hard glare as he turned and gently shoved Margaret aside. “Let’s go, Trapper. Easy, Frank. Just lean against us. That’s it.“ He glanced up. “We’ll take care of him, Henry. You just keep these other joy boys under control.” 

The crowd silently parted to let the shuffling threesome by. 

Some time later, Trapper and Hawkeye stood nearby with grim looks on their faces watched Frank as he lay on his cot in the Swamp.

Hawkeye frowned. “You won’t say?”

Frank shook his head weakly. “No. It was just a trick that backfired. Let it die.”

“But you almost did!”

Trapper leaned down and patted Frank’s arm. “You rest now, old buddy.“ He hooked Hawkeye’s arm and led him away. “He’s right, you know.”

Hawkeye glanced back at Frank’s cot. “Yeah, but someone ought to pay.”

“They are. In personal misery. They didn’t know this would happen. They’re so used to us doing things to Frank, they just thought they’d give it a try, that’s all.“ He looked intently at his friend. “Hawkeye, it’s something we might’ve done.”

Hawkeye frowned, but nodded. “Yeah. I know. That’s why I feel so rotten.”

 

Frank awoke and in the semi-darkness he saw Hawkeye sprawled in a chair, asleep, beside him. Frank closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again, Trapper was grinning at him through bright daylight.

“Hey, old buddy! How you feeling?”

Frank glanced around. “I thought Pierce was here.”

“He was. All night. I couldn’t budge him out of this chair. He just went over to the mess hall to get some soup for you. Hey, you should’ve told us you didn’t feel well. You slept all day and all night. You’re run down. You need a rest.”

Frank looked at the side of the tent. “Yes. I know.”

“Maybe you should get a pass to Tokyo. Go down there and have some fun.”

“I am leaving,” Frank said dully.

Trapper grinned. “Good! Then you can get all rested up and ready for work. You ought to have a ball in Tokyo. Hawkeye and I will be glad to see you go.”

“I know you will.”

“And we’ll be glad to—”

Radar ripped the door open to the Swamp. “Emergency, Captain MacIntyre! New casualties have just arrived.”

Trapper slapped Frank’s arm. “Gotta run! Radar, Hawkeye is out there somewhere with a jug of soup.”

Radar held up a container. “This?”

“Yeah! Feed it to Frank.” He paused at the door. “And, Frank, no more sleeping in the supply closet. You’ve got a bunk right here. Besides, gypsies might find you next time and whisk you away for good.” He left.

“I hear there are gypsies in the neighborhood right now,” Frank mumbled.

“Huh?” Radar asked as he opened the jug of soup. “What’s that, Major? I haven’t heard about any gypsies.”

“Never mind. I hope that’s chicken soup you’ve got there.”

Radar looked inside the container. “No, sir. Split pea.”

“He would!“ He shrugged. “Oh, well, hand it over. Pierce didn’t know that legumes cause me gas.”

Radar grinned maliciously behind Frank’s back. “Of course not, sir.”


	4. Chapter 4

Margaret stood aside as Trapper and Hawkeye entered her tent. “What are you two looking so pleased about?”

Hawkeye shirked. “We just wanted to tell you that because of our little talk with you, we’ve solved Frank’s problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s agreed to a two-week pass in Tokyo,” Trapper answered.

“After which, when Frank comes back, all will be sweetness and light in the Swamp again.” Hawkeye grinned with pride. “What do you think of us now? We’ve pretty great, right?”

Margaret stared at them with amazement on her face. “You don’t honestly think—” She turned away and wrung her hands. “Oh, no, I think you do!”

Trapper shrugged his shoulders at Hawkeye. “I told you the news would break her up.”

Hawkeye beamed at her. “Hot Lips, just tell us we’re the greatest things in pants, and kiss our deserving lips for being so smart.”

Margaret turned, a mixture of laughter and tears shaking her voice. “Oh, you fools! You poor, dumb, blind fools!”

Hawkeye shrugged his shoulders back at Trapper. “She left out deaf, but otherwise she hit most of our senses.”

“Get serious! For once, get serious you two, will you?!”

Hawkeye gave her his most serious face. “Okay. As soon as you decide whether to laugh or to cry. Did we slip up somewhere?”

“Oh, boy, did you ever! You dumb oafs! Frank’s not going to Tokyo for two weeks for rest and relaxation! And he certainly isn’t coming back here afterwards! He’s being transferred!”

Trapper and Hawkeye stared at each other.

Hawkeye looked at her hard. “Transferred? Are you sure?”

Margaret looked away. “I wasn’t supposed to tell. It’s a secret.“ She looked back at them. “But, yes, he’s being transferred. He’s waiting for his orders to come through.”

“But he didn’t say anything—” Hawkeye said almost to himself. 

Trapper grinned nervously. “Yeah. Any other time he tried to get transferred, he spouted his head off about it. Anybody who‘d listen got an earful, whether they wanted to hear it, or not.” 

A nervous grin played across Hawkeye’s face, too. 

Margaret pointed at the silly looks on their faces. “There! That’s just the reason why he has to get away! Your petty, hateful remarks!”

Hawkeye wrinkled his brow. “Hateful? Margaret, we don’t hate Frank. Is that what he thinks? That we WANT to get rid of him?”

“You’ve always made it very obvious just what you think of him.”

“That’s rubbish! It was all a joke! Surely, he knew that.” He frowned. “Didn’t he? Look, if it hadn’t been for Frank, Trapper would be dead and I’d probably be dead, too, or minus an arm. We owe him our lives.“ He paused, thinking. “Sure, I pick on Frank. I have to do that, or I’d go nuts! But he caused it. Always throwing the rule book up to us. He didn’t realize we’d bust at the seams if we didn’t let off steam once in awhile. There’s just too much living and dying going on around here to be nicey-nice about rules. Henry realizes that. That’s why he turns his back to a lot of what goes on. That’s why he’s a good commander, and Frank isn’t. But that doesn’t mean we want to get rid of Frank.”

“Holy cow!” Trapper yelled.

“What?” Hawkeye asked.

“So, that’s what he meant!”

“Huh?”

“You remember when I first jumped him for acting spooky? He said things would change for the better in the Swamp. I thought he meant he’d try to go back to normal again. He meant he’d leave.”

“So, way back then he was thinking of a transfer. That explains why his gear was gone. He’d already packed it.”

“And why he slept in the supply closet. He wanted to bother us as little as possible until he could leave.“ He frowned. “Is that the thinking of a sane man?”

Hawkeye turned. “Margaret, all this hogwash can’t be true, can it?”

Margaret, arms crossed, looking sad and angry all at once, said nothing. But her set mouth was speaking volumes. She might as well have been tapping her foot in anger.

Trapper glanced at Hawkeye. “Papa Hawk, I think we’ve gone too far this time.”

Hawkeye pursed his lips together, but didn’t answer.

 

Later that day Trapper and Hawkeye lounged on their cots in the Swamp, but they weren’t relaxing.

“Well, we got a problem, Trapper.”

“Yeah,” Trapper agreed.

“What are we going to do about Frank Burns?”

Trapper sipped his martini. “Whoever thought he’d take it this personally?”

“I guess we did raze him a little hard. But he was so damned stuffy.”

“Henry’s right, though. Old Frank’s changed quite a bit, don’t you think?”

Hawkeye pushed himself up and poured himself another martini. “Yeah, I guess so.“ He rubbed his eyes. “This damn war! It’s making animals out of all of us.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have done all those things to Frank.”

“Me?!” Hawkeye objected. “Don’t forget that you joined right in, buddy.”

“Yeah, but you thought of everything. I wouldn’t be surprised if you sneaked out and tied him to that raft.”

Hawkeye’s head snapped up. “Me?!”

“Yeah. You acted plenty guilty.”

“How do I know YOU didn’t do it?”

Trapper glanced hard at Hawkeye. “You don’t.”

Hawkeye was disgusted with himself. “This isn’t doing any good. We’ll be fighting next.”

“I still say Frank’s changed.”

“Sure, he has,” Hawkeye agreed. “When I first got here, I couldn’t stand him. Now, I’m kind of used to seeing his simpering puss around.“ He sipped his martini. “When Hot Lips first got here, Frank wouldn’t even look at her. And then he sure started doing a lot of looking.”

“Yeah. So did she. Funny. Stuffy as old Frank is, he sure beat our time with Hot Lips. She won’t even give us a decent hello.”

“Sure is a damn good nurse, though. Best I’ve ever worked with.”

“Bet you’d give your stethoscope to work her over in some secluded spot.”

“Can it, Trapper.”

“The lady ain’t that virtuous, Hawkeye. Just because you can’t lay her—”

“I said, can it!”

Trapper sat up. “He-e-ey! I hit a nerve. Thought you had them all removed at med school. What’s wrong? Mad ‘cause some gal overlooked you?”

“I said to shut up, MacIntyre!”

After a long silence, Trapper said, “If that’s the way you want it—”

“That’s the way I want it!“ Hawkeye snapped. 

“Alright, then!” Trapper turned away.

“Alright!” Hawkeye thundered.

Silence prevailed in the Swamp. Frank finally entered. The silence startled him as did the angry expressions on Trapper and Hawkeye’s faces. Frank lay on his cot, and, after a moment, glanced at Trapper and Hawkeye, puzzled at their apparent hostility toward one another.

Radar entered. “Hey! You’re here.” He glanced around, puzzled by the silence, also. “You’re ALL here! I thought you were, but it was so quiet—”

“What do you want, Radar?!” Hawkeye barked.

“The men would like to confirm the poker game scheduled for tonight in the Swamp. Is 10:00 alright?”

“No!” Trapper and Hawkeye barked in unison, startling Radar and Frank.

“10:30?” Radar asked, slightly bewildered.

“No!!” Trapper and Hawkeye barked in unison, again.

“Then, when?” Radar asked, really bewildered.

“Never!” Hawkeye yelled.

“Yeah!” Trapper concurred.

“We’ll be too busy sleeping!”

“Yeah!”

Frank pushed past a puzzled Radar and left the Swamp. He went straight to Margaret’s tent.

 

Frank‘s face was creased in worry. “--and they’re mad at me now because they can’t have their poker game tonight. I always want lights out so I can sleep. Before, they never listened. Now, they’re mad before I can even open my mouth.”

“Maybe you misunderstood them, darling,” Margaret soothed.

Frank looked at her with his face still locked in misery. “No, I didn’t. I tell you, Margaret, I’m going to be happy to get away from those two lunatics.”

Margaret softly spoke to him as she touched his arm. “Yes, but it means we have to part.”

“We always knew this time would come someday. You’re the one I’ll regret leaving.“ He threw his arms around her. “Oh, Margaret!”

“Frank!”

 

In the crowded Mess Hall Trapper walked by with his tray when Radar hollered at him. “Here, Captain MacIntyre! There’s room with us.”

Trapper glanced at Hawkeye sitting beside Radar. “No, thanks, Radar. I’d rather sit where the air is clearer.” He continued to the other side of the tent.

Radar, amazed, glanced at Hawkeye who concentrated on his food. At the end of Hawkeye’s table sat Henry, Margaret, and Frank. 

Henry frowned as he watched Trapper happily settle with a group of nurses. “What’s wrong with Pierce and McIntire?” He looked at Burns. “Do you know, Frank?”

Frank grunted as he took a bite of food. 

Henry looked thoughtful. “Funny. I thought nothing would ever split them up. Are you sure you don’t know what’s going on, Frank?”

Frank got up and left without answering. 

“He just sat down! I thought he was hungry.” 

“He just got his appetite ruined,“ Margaret answered.

Henry protested. “Boy, everybody is touchy around here.” He looked at Margaret. “Major, do YOU know what’s going on?”

Margaret was only too willing to talk. She leaned forward so they wouldn’t be overheard. “Pierce and MacIntyre are fighting about who’s to blame for Frank’s leaving. I agree with MacIntyre. Pierce always starts everything. MacIntyre just follows.”

Henry rolled his eyes in frustration. “Well, I can’t have this. First, I lose Frank because he wants to get away from those two, and then THEY start fighting between themselves. I can’t have my staff bickering like a bunch of adolescent schoolgirls. How can they be efficient in O.R.? How can their patients get good care?” He glanced hopefully at Margaret. “Can’t Frank do something about this mess?”

“All he wants is out. He’s had it with those guys.”

“But he could TRY!”

“He thinks his opinion is worthless to them. He thinks they hate him. Personally, I don’t blame him for feeling that way. They’ve made life miserable for him here. He doesn’t want a thing to do with them anymore. He just wants out.”

“So why are Piece and MacIntyre fighting? That’s what they’ve always wanted, isn’t it? To get rid of Frank?”

Margaret straightened. “You’ll have to ask them, Colonel.”

 

Henry sighed as he looked at the quarrelsome-looking Hawkeye and the equally thrilled Trapper as he stopped them outside the O.R. that afternoon.

“Guys, I know this isn’t the time or place, but I need to know.”

“Well, yes,” Hawkeye admitted. “Damn it, Henry! That’s what we always THOUGHT we wanted. We always thought we wanted to be rid of Frank.”

“But we’re kind of used to him now,” Trapper agreed.

Henry studied their serious faces. “Look, you guys. I know that you don’t want him to leave. But he’s made up his mind. I can’t force him to stay. Neither can you. And it’s not going to help matters if you two are fighting. That won’t make Frank stay, either.”

Hawkeye looked just as stubborn as Trapper. “We’d better get to triage, Henry.” He glanced at the steady stream of stretchers headed for them. “Looks like a busy day.”

 

After many long hours of surgery, the surgeons and nurses grew tired and short tempered without the zany antics of Hawkeye and Trapper to lighten the atmosphere.

“Hemostat,” Hawkeye muttered. “Where the hell is that fragment?”

Trapper from the next table offered, “Maybe you better use a magnet. Sounds like your eyes and fingers are failing you.”

“No, thanks. I’d borrow your magnet, but I can see you’re using it. Sponge,” he said softly to Margaret who glanced at his tired face, handed him a sponge, then leaned over to wipe the sweat from his face.

“I see you’ve got your favorite nurse assisting,” Trapper remarked.

“Jealous?” Hawkeye shot back.

“Say, maybe that’s why you can’t find that fragment,” Trapper continued. “You’re supposed to be watching your patient, not your nurse.”

“And I was just thinking of YOUR poor patient,” Hawkeye muttered. “Someone ought to tell him that you use a rusty can opener to crack chests!” He lowered his voice. “Hemostat. There it is, Margaret. Prettiest piece of steel I’ve ever seen. Darn! It got away again.“ He shook his head and blinked. “Boy! Am I bushed!”

Margaret leaned toward him. “Maybe you should go rest awhile, Doctor.”

“Soon as I get this boy out of the woods.”

“Hey! Hey! No fraternizing!” Trapper yelled.

“You don’t even know what that big word means, Junior,” Hawkeye shot back.

“But I sure as hell know where the woods are!” Trapper returned. “Trying to talk Major Houlihan into a woodsy tryst? After all, isn’t she your secret—”

Hawkeye looked toward Trapper and with a very unfriendly edge to his voice said, “Watch your mouth, Junior! Better not talk to grownups about adult matters.”

“I’ll show you!“ Trapper threw down his scalpel and started around the table. His nurse grabbed him as Margaret grabbed a passing Hawkeye.

Henry waded between them. “Okay, you two! Knock it off! We’ve got lives to save! Keep your personal business out of O.R. We’ve got enough casualties on the battlefield. Let’s not start piling up our own bodies in here.”

“Silver tongue devil,” Hawkeye muttered so only Margaret could hear him.

The O.R. settled into an unnatural quiet. Instruments clanked, but nobody spoke. Hawkeye’s hand shook as he reached for a hemostat. Margaret’s eyes silently pleaded for him to stop, but he glanced at Trapper, shook his head, and then stubbornly continued to operate. 

 

Henry was busily working at his desk. “Radar, bring me those requisition forms—”

Radar handed him some papers. “Here they are, sir.”

Henry muttering as he glanced over them. “Damn forms!”

“But very necessary, sir. The nurses need the sanitary pads.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion!”

“Sorry, sir, I—”

“And no unnecessary talk!” He quickly signed the papers and handed them back. “Here! See if your superior brain knows what to do with them!”

“Yes, sir.” Radar turned away, crushed.

Henry sighed. “Radar, wait.“ He wiped a hand across his weary face. “I’m sorry. I guess this mess between Pierce and MacIntyre has me upset.”

“It has everyone, sir. The cooks got in a fight this morning, and one dumped a whole pot of creamed corn on someone else‘s head. And half of the nurses aren’t speaking to the other half. Seems someone lost a bar of scented soap and thought it was stolen.”

Henry rolled his eyes. “Oh, boy! What am I going to do with this mess, Radar? It’s destroying morale. Soon, we’ll be an armed camp and fighting among ourselves. Then, another M.A.S.H unit will come in and have to treat US for casualties.”

“Maybe if Captain Pierce and Captain MacIntyre made up—”

“But how?! They won’t listen to me. One’s about as stubborn as the other. I can’t FORCE them to shake hands. They’ll have to want to do that themselves.”

 

Silence prevailed as Hawkeye, Frank, and Trapper lounged in the Swamp. Frank tried to concentrate on a magazine, but his eyes kept shifting toward the hostile Hawkeye and Trapper. Trapper went to the still, poured himself a drink, and didn’t offer to pour one for Hawkeye who was also approaching the still.

“It’s empty,” Hawkeye said in disappointment as he stared at the bottom of his cup.

Trapper shrugged his shoulders as he sat down on his cot. “So?”

Hawkeye glared at him. “So, why didn’t you fill it?”

“So, why do I have to do everything around here?”

Hawkeye slammed down his cup and approached Trapper’s cot. “Like hell you do everything! You never get off that goldbricking butt!”

Trapper sat forward. “Is that so?!”

“That’s so!”

Trapper jumped to his feet. “Take that back!”

“Go to hell!”

“Why, you!“ Trapper swung at Hawkeye who ducked.

Trapper and Hawkeye grappled, but Frank jumped at them.

“Stop it! Now, stop it!“ He shoved them apart. “I said, stop it! Back off!” He looked threatening as both of them glared at each other. “Look, I don’t know what’s the matter between you two, but stop it!” Then his face was wreathed in tragedy. “You’re buddies! Pals! I can’t stand to see you carrying on this way! Don’t do it! Get it straightened out before it’s too late! Don’t cut yourselves to pieces like I—“ His face sobered and he turned away. “I—I’m sorry. I—I can‘t tell you what to do.” He left the tent quickly.

Hawkeye and Trapper looked at each other sheepishly. 

“He’s right, you know,” Hawkeye said.

“Yeah. It’s wrong as hell. And that’s what I feel like I’ve been through.”

“Me, too. I don’t like this fighting.”

“Then, let’s stop it.”

“Fine with me.”

“Look,“ Trapper said, shifting nervously. “I’m sorry for what I said about you starting all the trouble.”

“Why should you be? It was the truth. Look, I’m sorry, too, for what I said.”

Trapper twisted his head. “And, ah, about Hot Lips, too. I shouldn’t dig at a sore wound.”

“It’s a wound of my own making.“ He breathed deeply. “Look, let’s throw dirt over the whole damn thing.”

 

They solemnly shook hands and slapped each other on the shoulder. 

“Well! I’m sure glad to see that,” Henry said from the doorway.

Hawkeye grinned at Blake. “Get a camera and we’ll publish it in The Stars and Stripes.”

Henry entered. “I just couldn’t see you guys not being friends anymore.”

“It took a lot to cause the fight, Henry,” Trapper offered.

“Frank’s leaving?”

“Yeah,” Hawkeye answered. “We both just feel miserable.”

“You know, I think you do,” Henry said solemnly. “I just wish you’d realized what you were doing months ago, before Frank got so mad.”

“So do we,” Trapper agreed.

“What really hurt him, anyway, guys?”

“We don’t know, Henry.” Hawkeye glanced at Trapper. “But we’re going to find out.”

 

Margaret faced Hawkeye and Trapper. “Are you two wanting to make my tent your next battlefield?

Hawkeye pushed past her into the tent. “That’s past history.”

“Thank God for that! Now maybe the state of war in this camp can cease.”

“One skirmish, at least,“ Hawkeye muttered, then glanced back at her. “Okay, Margaret. We’ve racked our brains trying to reach Frank, but we can’t even figure out what’s wrong with him. There’s got to be more to it than what you’ve told us. Now, in the simplest words you know, what’s the score? Just what have we done to him that was so horrible?”

“It’s what you haven’t done.”

“Huh?” Hawkeye glanced at Trapper who shrugged, also. “That doesn’t explain a whole lot, Margaret.”

“I know it doesn’t. I suppose I might as well tell you. It won’t change anything, though.” She took a deep breath. “He thinks you don’t want him to be your buddy.”

“What?!” Hawkeye exclaimed, and Trapper was equally stunned.

Margaret shrugged. “I know. It sounds stupid, but I guess it’s something that’s pretty important to men.”

Trapper stepped forward. “Not WANT to be his buddy?! Where’d he ever get a fool idea like that?”

“From you guys. You’ve always done things to drive him away. Well, you’ve finally succeeded. That’s why he’s leaving.”

“You listen to me, Margaret, and you hear me good,” Hawkeye said grimly. “Frank IS our buddy and we don’t want him to leave.”

Trapper nodded in agreement.

“Wow!” Margaret said with amazement. “You can say that after—”

“After what, Margaret?!“ Hawkeye demanded. “What happened to turn him off?”

Margaret searched both of their puzzled faces. “You don’t know? Either of you? Of course, you wouldn’t know, MacIntyre. You were unconscious.”

“Okay,“ Hawkeye conceded. “What did I say that hurt his delicate little feelings so much?”

“Captain Pierce. I swear—”

“Don’t swear, Margaret. Just tell us, huh?”

Margaret looked into the past. “It was when the North Koreans brought you two in wounded to their camp, and Frank and I went to help you.“ She glanced at Hawkeye. “Do you remember why you said you couldn’t operate on McIntire?”

“I was wounded,” Hawkeye frowned, remembering back. “My hand shook too much.”

“Besides that. You said something else.”

Hawkeye thought, then glanced quickly at Trapper. “I said Trapper was my friend and that I couldn’t cut into him. It’d be like cutting into myself. I couldn‘t even watch Frank do it.” 

Trapper and Hawkeye exchanged embarrassed glances. 

“And do you think it was any easier for Frank?!” Margaret demanded. “He likes Trapper, too! But you two apparently didn’t know that! And as for that pint of blood you got, Hawkeye. It was almost two pints, and it didn’t come from me!”

Hawkeye looked at her, hard. “Frank? But he was exhausted.” He paused to let the information sink in. “He’s got O negative blood, the universal type,“ he muttered. “He could’ve done it.“ He frowned. “But he shouldn’t have. I saw him before I passed out. He looked beat.“ He frowned at her. “Two pints? Are you sure?”

Margaret nodded. Tears were stinging her eyes. “It nearly killed him! I watched his life drip away into you, but he wouldn’t let me stop until the color came back into your face. Even then, he wouldn’t rest. He sat up with you two, day and night. He wouldn’t leave his patients.”

“That little shrimp!” Hawkeye muttered. “It’s a wonder we didn’t bring him back in a box.“ He glanced at Trapper. “You’re right. We did make a mistake. A hell of a big one.”

“Yeah,” Trapper mumbled in assent.

“Now’s a fine time for you two to admit that!” Margaret declared. “You two have always given the impression that you could do without Frank very nicely! Is there any question of why he’s leaving, now?!”

“We’re sorry, Margaret,” Trapper said.

“Tell Frank that,” Margaret prompted.

“We don’t think he wants to hear it,” Trapper explained.

“When Frank gets back from Tokyo—” Hawkeye started.

“Can’t you get it through your thick head?!” Margaret said in amazement. “He’s not coming back here! He’s being transferred to another M.A.S.H! We won’t see him again!”

“Yes, we will, Margaret,” Hawkeye said very seriously. “We all will because he’s coming back here. I promise.”

“The Hawk has a plan!” Trapper exclaimed, excited. 

“Not really,” Hawkeye admitted. “I’m just counting on what Margaret told us to be right. Remember how quickly Frank got us back together when we wouldn’t even listen to anybody else? I’m hoping he’ll realize how he was able to do that.”

“Then, isn’t there anything we can do?”

“I don’t know, Trapper. I’d try anything to keep that little jerk here.” Then he said to Margaret, with a lazy smile. “Margaret, you’re beautiful with tears in your eyes.”

Margaret gazed at him. “So are you, Hawkeye.” She kissed his cheek. “Both of you.” She kissed Trapper’s cheek, also.

“I always wanted to be a big brother,” Trapper said sheepishly.

“Well, now you are one. Both of you.” She looked at Hawkeye. “Please keep Frank here. Any way you can.”

Hawkeye gave her his best mischievous grin. “Any way?”

Margaret sighed, but nodded. “Any way.”


	5. Chapter 5

It was very late at night in the Swamp when Hawkeye started shaking Frank. “Frank! Frank! Wake up!”

Frank stared into nothingness, trying to get oriented. “Huh?”

“Wake up!“ Hawkeye yelled. “It’s Trapper. He’s sick.”

Trapper moaned loudly.

Frank jumped out of his cot in T-shirt and shorts, got halfway across the tent, and stopped. “You take care of him,“ he said to Hawkeye and turned away.

Hawkeye grabbed Frank’s arm. “He’s your patient. You can’t neglect a cry for help, can you?”

Frank glanced suspiciously at Hawkeye, then shrugged. “Oh, okay.” He knelt at Trapper’s side. “Where does it hurt, MacIntyre?”

Trapper moaned, “My gut! Aw!”

“Lie still!“ Frank probed. “Does it hurt here? Here?”

“Aw!” Trapper confirmed. “Yes! That’s it! That’s the place!”

“Your wound? But I don’t understand it. There’s nothing there that should be causing you any trouble now. What kind of pain is it?”

Trapper screwed his face up. “Sort of a cutting, stabbing pain. Aw!”

“But what would cause something like that?”

“I know what it could be—” Hawkeye offered.

“What?” Frank questioned.

“You left your scalpel in him.” He began to grin.

Trapper straightened and grinned, too.

“Oh, you two!” Frank declared. “I’m glad I’m getting out of here tomorrow.“ He started to rise.

But the other two grabbed him. 

“Let me go!” Frank demanded.

The three struggled, and things went crashing to the ground around them. 

“What are you doing?! Let me go!” 

"That's just it, Frank. We don't want to let you go," Hawkeye said.

Frank stopped struggling in the tangle of bodies. “Huh?”

“Don’t go, Frank.” Hawkeye answered.

“We don’t want you to leave, buddy,” Trapper agreed.

Frank frowned in suspicion. “Is this some kind of a joke?”

“No, it isn’t,” Hawkeye said earnestly. “We want you to stay here with us at 4077 M.A.S.H.”

“We can’t say we wouldn’t tease you, Frank,” Trapper warned. “You’re too much of a patsy to leave alone.”

“But we have you broken in now,” Hawkeye explained. “Think of all the trouble it’d take to train a new guy to fill your place. You wouldn’t want us to go to all that work, would you?”

Frank mistook their friendly grins for craftiness, and it angered him. Rising suddenly, he broke their grips on him. “You’re both crazy!” He took a step. “Aw! You guys never quit, do you?”

“What’s wrong?” Hawkeye asked.

“There’s tacks all over the place. I stepped in them.”

“How did—“ Trapper started. “Oh. THOSE tacks. I thought I put them back under my bunk. We must’ve knocked them over a minute ago.”

“Don’t act innocent with me!” Frank limped back to his cot. “This was all just a hoax to get me to hurt my feet! And for a minute, I believed you.” 

Trapper looked frustrated at Hawkeye sitting on the floor. “Strike three.”

 

In the scrub room outside the O.R. the next morning Hawkeye removed his surgical gloves. “That was good work, Frank. I couldn’t have done better myself.” 

“Even with one hand tied behind your back?” Frank mumbled.

“Frank!” Margaret admonished. “That’s not fair! Captain Pierce meant that as a compliment.”

Frank stared at her. “So, you’ve joined the enemy, huh?”

Trapper walked in and slapped Frank’s back. “Hi, ya, Frank!”

“I’m surrounded!” Frank declared.

Margaret looked aghast. “Frank! Don’t be so crazy.”

Frank stuffed cotton in his ears and grinned bitterly. “I can’t hear you!“ He thrust his hand out into empty air, triumphantly. “Goodbye, and farewell! My chariot awaits!“ He stomped out.

Margaret, Trapper, and Hawkeye, still in their operating gear, crowded around the door and watched Frank walk across the muddy area toward the Swamp.

“Well, there he goes,” Trapper said, dejected.

“Couldn’t you guys stop him?” Margaret asked.

“We did everything but ask him to marry us,” Hawkeye answered. “He just doesn’t want to be around us anymore.”

“Did you try telling him how you felt?” Margaret asked. “That you liked him and wanted him to stay?”

Hawkeye and Trapper shifted nervously. 

Margaret smiled wisely. “You two!” She glanced at Frank and frowned. “Why is he limping?”

“He stepped on some tacks in the Swamp,” Hawkeye answered.

“You didn’t!”

“No, we didn’t,” Hawkeye answered. “Not on purpose.”

“It was an accident,” Trapper explained. “Honest. But he doesn’t believe us.”

Hawkeye scanned the skies. “Listen! Isn’t that a plane?”

Trapper looked up, too. “Is it ours?” 

The three watched as the noise of an aircraft engine got louder.

“It’s a Commie!” Hawkeye hollered. “Can’t the darned nut see the red cross on this tent? Hey! Watch out! He’s strafing us! Get down!”

Margaret resisted Hawkeye’s pushing hands as she fearfully stared out the door. “Frank!”

Hawkeye looked, too, at Frank who was still walking determinedly toward the Swamp. “Frank! Get down, you idiot!”

Hawkeye dashed out, followed by Trapper. They tackled Frank and fell with him beside a tent, then threw themselves over him. Bullets whizzed around them until agonizing moments later when the aircraft finally turned and flew away over the hills. 

Frank pushed Trapper and Hawkeye off himself and sat up. He looked around and saw their inert bodies. He stared at them cautiously. “Pierce? MacIntyre? Are you okay?” When they don’t move, he grew alarmed and patted their faces. “Hawkeye! Trapper! Come on, you guys! You can’t be dead!”

Hawkeye opened his eyes and grinned up at Frank. “Nope.”

Trapper grinned, too. “Not yet, old buddy.”

Hawkeye puckered his lips. “Come on, sweetheart. Give us a kiss.”

Frank gave them a disgusted grunt instead, pushed himself to his feet, and stomped away, leaving them lying on the ground.

Hawkeye leaned up on one elbow. “And there goes the old ballgame.”

Frank was in the center of the M.A.S.H. camp when Margaret caught up with him and grabbed his arm. “Frank! Come to my tent. I want to talk to you.”

Frank looked at her wild-eyed. “I’m not sure I want to talk to YOU! You seem to have gone,“ he said, nodding his head in the direction he’d just come from, “over to THEIR side!”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Frank!” she yelled. “There are no sides here! I’m just trying to do what’s best for everyone concerned.“ She pushed him toward her tent. “So, get in there and listen to me for a minute.”

Frank allowed himself to be shoved inside the tent. But as soon as they were inside the door, he turned and confronted her. He was still angry at her with being with those other two. “Okay! What is it?!”

“Oh, Frank, how can you be this way, after what we’ve been to each other?”

Frank cooled noticeably. “I’m sorry, Margaret. I’m just mad at THEM.” He nodded outside. 

“For what? For saving your life just now?! They could have been killed!”

“And it would’ve been for nothing.”

“Frank!”

“That’s what they think!”

“No, it isn’t!” Margaret spoke slower so that even he would understand. “They’ve been over here three or four times talking to me about you. Those guys have been trying to figure out a way to keep you here.”

Frank frowned in surprise. “Why would they do that?”

“Because they like you, you idiot! They don’t want you to leave!” His shocked face quieted her. And when he quieted, she did, also. “They just can’t come out and say it, that’s all. But that doesn’t mean they don’t feel it.”

Frank frowned. “Are you sure?”

“They wouldn’t let on that your leaving meant anything to them, but it’s what caused that fight between them.”

“It did?”

“Surely you knew it had to be something mighty important to break up those two.” Then she said slowly, so even he would understand every word. “And it took somebody mighty special to them to bring them back together again.”

“Huh?”

Margaret was finally just plain frustrated with Frank’s blindness. “Oh, Frank, sometimes I understand what Pierce means about you being so thickheaded! Look, those guys are your buddies. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t have been doing all these things lately to get you to stay.” She executed a hand gesture that meant that she had given up. “But I guess it’s too late.” She bit her lips together and frowned. “The truck will be here any time now to take you away.”

Frank, with eyes staring ahead, wandered out of the tent. “Yes, the truck—”

Margaret bit her lips together again. “Goodbye. Frank--” She threw herself onto her cot so she didn‘t see him forlornly wander out of her quarters.

 

The Mess Hall was nearly vacant, as it was the middle of the morning. A few personnel sat, scattered, drinking coffee. Trapper and Hawkeye were at their usual table, sitting across from each other. Both had serious, reflective faces as they sipped coffee.

“Well, that’s that,” Hawkeye muttered. 

“Can’t say we didn’t try, though.“ Trapper scowled at his cup. “This coffee is slop.” He stood up.

Hawkeye looked up tentatively. “You going back to the Swamp?”

Trapper shook his head. “Frank’s there, packing, I expect. No, think I think I’ll mosey over to the Painless Pole’s to see if that Las Vegas dude has cooled off any.“ He touched Hawkeye’s shoulder. “See you around, old buddy.” He spoke to somebody on his way out, but Hawkeye paid no attention.

“Is this a private wake, or can anybody join?” Margaret asked a moment later. 

Hawkeye glanced up at her sympathetic face. “The more the merrier.” He waved his hand toward the opposite bench. “Pull up a crying towel and sit down.”

Margaret sat down where Trapper had been sitting across from Hawkeye. Long moments slid by while she watched Hawkeye absently chewing on his hand. 

“Want some fresh coffee?” she asked at last.

Hawkeye shook his head. “Don’t want the cooks to think I’m getting addicted to this stuff.” He stared into his cup. “What are you going to do when this is all over, Major?”

“Do?” Margaret shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, I suppose I’ll work in a hospital somewhere. Maybe back in California. My hometown is Fort Ord. Why?”

Hawkeye stared grimly into space. “Funny, isn’t it? How we all came from different parts of the States to this hellhole to ‘practice medicine,’ if you can call it that. It’s not real. It’s like time’s stood still here. Like we’re almost detached from life. And, yet, it’s real, so damned real, with kids’ lives slipping through our fingers every day.“ He played with his coffee cup as he stared at it. “And in a few months, my time here, and yours, and Trapper’s, will all be over, and we’ll be going home—”

“Is that so bad?” Margaret asked softly after a long silence. 

Hawkeye looked up with a bright sparkle in his eyes. “--away from each other.” 

Silence hung heavily as Margaret realized Hawkeye’s melancholy mood, and she couldn’t think of anything to say. 

“It’s a rotten war, Major. A lot of guys who thought they were set up in the world back home won’t ever see that world again.”

“But many of them will, because of doctors like you,” Margaret said softly.

“Doctors like me!” Hawkeye chided moodily. “Do you know what I am back in Maine? Or Trapper in Boston? Or Frank in Indiana? We’re not like this. None of us are like this. God, this isn’t life! It’s a nightmare.”

“And you’re all going to forget it as quickly as you can.”

“Yes.”

“And each other. You’ll forget each other, too. Ten years from now, you’ll meet and wonder how you could have ever loved or hated each other so much.”

“Yes, we’ll be different, alright.“ He grew thoughtful. “And we won’t be able to exactly remember the fear we had over here. The raw gut feeling of death so near, and the desperation and sometimes the futility of our surgery. And the inescapable, and very real, knowledge that at any second a bomb could drop on us and leave behind just a bloody mass of quivering silly-putty where we’d all been standing.“ He touched the coffee cup. “You know, it’s kind of sad that we’ll lose that scared, desperate feeling when we get stateside. It might keep us from growing old and flabby and comfortable.“ He stared into space again. “But, you know, I have a notion that a part of us, the part that’s here right now, will be here forever, operating on an endless line of broken bodies in the middle of this miserable mud hole.”

“And will I be here with you?” Margaret said softly.

Hawkeye covered her hand with his. “We couldn’t do it without you.“ He absently played with her hand. “I’m going to tell you something, something that you won’t believe, something that we’ll never discuss again, something that has nothing to do with Maine, or my lobster-hocking father, or my wife Mary. They belong to another world, but this is here and now and the part of us that will stay here forever.”

Margaret uneasily tried to draw her hand away. “I, I don’t think I want to hear this.”

“Please.” Hawkeye gazed steadily at her. “I know it probably won’t do either of us any good to bring this out in the open, but we both know it’s true, don’t we?” 

Margaret stared at his earnest face and after a long silence she tried halfheartedly to laugh it off. “I don’t believe you!”

Hawkeye shrugged his shoulders. “I said you wouldn’t.”

Margaret studied her hands and mumbled, “You’re just melancholy because Frank is leaving, and the team is getting broken up. You’re missing this part of your life, and it isn’t even over with yet.”

“It’s more than that, and you know it. And we’ll never do anything about it, even if we could.“ He looked earnestly toward her. “But don’t think we’ve been cheated. We’ve had our time together, standing side by side at a meatball operating table three miles from the front. We’ve worked as one, we’ve thought as one. I could never have made it through some of those tough operations or some of those hellish long hours without you. You’re my ideal, the nurse that made her doctor look good. Whenever you handed me a hemostat, it was like a caress. And each victorious operation assisted by you was just as thrilling as the best lovemaking I’ve ever had. When I’m an old man, I’ll remember you and sigh. You’re the perfect angel, the one woman I never touched, the one woman I will NEVER touch, that I dreamed about as a kid. And you always will be.“ He smiled softly at her. “I know I'm punch drunk over too much coffee and just plain sad about Frank's leaving. Corner me about this later, and I’ll deny every word.

Tears had sprung up in Margaret's eyes as she gazed at him. She was almost forgetting to breath, and what breaths she did take were shallow through her slightly opened lips.

"There’s nothing physical about my feeling for you," he continued. "It’s purely spiritual. And that’s how you are to me, pure and spiritual. I know that after all of this time and all of those men, you don't feel pure and spiritual about yourself, but that's how you are to me. Because we're not talking about physical bodies here. I'm looking at your soul and liking what I see. Just tuck it away in a dark corner of your heart and forget about it. Because I’ll never mention it again.“ His voice grew earnest. “But never forget it’s there, just like it’s in my heart.“ He rose and brushed her cheek with his hand. “So, goodbye, my perfect angel of the spirit. Have a good life. And be good to the other men you’ll meet. Somehow, each one of them will remind you of me, just as I’ll see you in every woman I’ll ever know. Remember not only the doctor, but also the man who acted like a smart-ass jerk so no one would know he was crying inside. Remember the doctor who thought you were the best damned nurse this side of Hell,“ he said softly, as he gently smiled at her. “Remember what you meant to him." A tear glistened in his eye as he said softly, "And remember that he loved you. Very. Very. Much.“ He paused a moment longer with his sad smile threatening to collapse into wrenching sobs. Then he plunged his hands into his pockets, slumped slightly as he turned, and slowly walked away.

Margaret watched him leave, then in a husky voice she said, “I know, you dirty bastard!” Then she added softly, as she wiped tears from her eyes, “Oh, I know!”

 

Late that afternoon Hawkeye and Trapper lounged on their cots in the Swamp.

“Wonder who we’ll get as a replacement for Frank?” Trapper mused aloud.

Hawkeye sipped a martini, as he gazed absently into space. “I’d settle for Marilyn Monroe.”

“Yeah, but can she cook?” Trapper asked. “Or clean up the tent? Who knows, she might be sloppy as hell.”

“Couldn’t have that,” Hawkeye concurred.

After a long, thoughtful pause, Trapper said, “It sure isn’t going to be the same around here.“ He glanced at Frank’s perfectly made cot. “I expect the truck is gone by now.”

“Will you shut up?!” Hawkeye said fiercely, as he shifted his position on his cot. “Look, why are we so glum? We can get us a pool table and put it where his cot is.”

“And we can have poker games all night long!” Trapper chimed in. “There won’t be anybody screaming at us to turn out the lights.”

Hawkeye thought pensively. “Yeah,” he agreed without enthusiasm. “It’s going to be great.”

Frank entered, threw his duffel bag on his cot, and started to stomp out again. His face showed that he was very angry. 

Trapper sat up, grinning. “Well, as I live and breathe! Look who’s back, Hawk!”

Hawkeye also sat up. “Is this just a visit, Frank? Did you miss us already? Or did you miss the truck?”

Frank was fuming, but managed to answer. “Somebody burned my orders! Now, I have to wait until a duplicate copy comes from H.Q.”

“Burned your orders?“ Trapper grinned at Hawkeye. “Now, who’d do a nasty thing like that?”

“I know who’d be SNEAKY enough to do it!” Frank accused.

“Now, Frank,” Hawkeye said. “Would we do something like that when we know how eager you are to be rid of us?”

“Yes!” Frank stomped toward the door.

“Say hello to Hot Lips for us!” Hawkeye called.

Frank glared at them and stomped out as they laughed.

“Say,” Trapper pondered. “I wonder what did happen to his orders. Did you?”

“Nah,” Hawkeye answered. “Couldn’t find them. “You?”

“Ditto. Now, who else would have a reason to burn them? Hot Lips?”

“She’d know better than to force him to stay if he really didn’t want to.”

“Then, who?“ Trapper brightened. “Say, you don’t suppose? Nah! It couldn’t be!“ He glanced at Hawkeye. “Could it?”

Hawkeye grinned. “Who else?” He settled back on his cot and smiled fondly. “We got us a little homesick pigeon on our hands, Trap. Let’s make him feel right at home.”

Trapper grinned back.

 

It was very late in the Swamp when Frank tiptoed in, glanced at shadowy figures of the sleeping Hawkeye and Trapper in their cots, and then undressed and crawled into bed. He closed his eyes and composed himself for slumber. But after a few moments, he became uneasy. He felt something close to him, although he hadn’t heard a sound. Uneasily, he shifted, still feeling as if he were being stared at. He could stand it no longer and opened his eyes. An ugly, phosphorescent head glowed not five inches from his face. Frank screamed and bounded out of bed, only to be stopped by a wall of water. He ran outside and was met by an awakened camp. Nurses gasped, then tittered at his undressed state. Frank looked for an out, but there was none. Hawkeye and Trapper blocked his retreat back into the Swamp.

Henry looked quarrelsome with his disheveled hair and rumpled robe that was hastily donned when the camp was awakened. “What’s wrong, Frank?”

Frank was beginning to shake from the wet and the cold. “N-nothing, C-colonel.”

“Well, what were you yelling about, then?” Henry said with annoyance. 

Trapper threw a blanket over Frank. “You’ll have to excuse the ruckus, Henry. Frank was having a little nightmare, and we had to douse him with water to wake him up. Something about monsters or margins or Marg—”

“It was Pierce in that Japanese mask he brought back from Tokyo!” Frank accused. “I was NOT asleep! I had just gotten—” He looked at Henry’s puzzled face and Margaret’s scared one. “—a little lost in dreams,“ he mumbled lamely.

“Well, see that it doesn’t happen again,” Henry grumbled. “We all need our sleep.”

Hawkeye grinned with his hands on Frank’s shoulders, ready to guide him. “Don’t worry, Henry. We’ll take real good care of Frank. And, just in case he has any more nightmares, we’ll keep a bucket of water ready at all times.”

Frank glared with water dripping off his face. “You wouldn’t dare! Colonel! I’ll never get any sleep! I’ll never know when these idiots will douse me!”

Hawkeye grinned foolishly. “Gee, Frank, you’re beautiful when you’re angry.” He started to pull Frank toward the Swamp. “Come along, lover. Time for beddy bye.”

Frank shot back a pleading look. “Colonel!”

“Pierce!” Henry yelled.

“Margaret!” Hawkeye answered.

“Colonel!” Margaret demanded.

Henry shook his head in disgust and made pushing motions with his hands. “Go to bed. Everybody, just go to bed.”

Frank looked wild. “Colonel!”

“Just live with it, Frank,” Henry suggested wearily. “They won’t kill you, even if you do give them a good reason. They’d be the first suspects.”

“But—” Frank protested.

Henry leaned toward Frank Burns. “They’re like cats with a mouse, Frank. They like playing with you.” He glanced at Pierce and McIntire who grinned at him, then he turned back to Frank. “Ignore them, and they’ll leave you alone. But,” he sighed as he straightened, “I think you’ll never learn that.” He looked around. “Everyone! Bed!”

The weary people wandered off to their quarters, some mumbling incoherent words, most silent, in the chilly, predawn hours.

Hawkeye and Trapper shoved Frank inside the Swamp. 

Frank shook off their hands, sat on his cot, and pulled on a shoe. “Now, I’ll have to take a hot shower, or I’ll catch cold.”

“Don’t go away mad, Frank,” Trapper said with a grin. “Just go away.”

Frank glared at Trapper. “I might just do that, orders or no orders.” He reached for his other shoe.

Outside the Swamp, the crowd was dispersing, except for Henry and Margaret.

Henry shook his head and grinned at Margaret. “Those guys! They’re turning me so gray-headed, my kids will think I’m their great-grandfather.” 

“Colonel, is it wise to leave Frank in there alone with them?”

“It might not be wise, but it is just.” He saw her confusion and glanced around to see if anyone else could overhear. “Margaret, don’t you ever tell a soul, but Frank burned those orders himself.”

Margaret looked stunned. “Frank?!”

“S-h-h!” Henry cautioned. “Yes. Radar saw him. But, why? That’s all I want to know. Why would he want to stay with them?”

Margaret grimaced. “I know the answer to that, Colonel, but I hope those other two never figure out what happened to his orders.”

“Why?”

Inside the Swamp, Hawkeye and Trapper watched Frank cram on his second shoe. 

“Rolled up blankets on your cots so it looked like you were asleep!“ Frank muttered. “Childishness!”

“Old Boy Scout trick, Frank,” Trapper explained. “One that isn’t taught by the Scout Master. Don’t get so steamed. We were only trying to help.”

“Yeah,” Hawkeye agreed. “We thought you were still warm from playing with matches this afternoon and needed to cool off. Isn‘t that what happened to your orders? You ‘accidentally‘ touched them with a match?”

Frank looked trapped and started to bolt for the door.

“Get him!” Hawkeye hollered as he lunged.

Hawkeye and Trapper tackled Frank onto his cot.

Frank struggled to get loose from the tangle of arms and legs. “Let me go, you idiots!”

“Never!” Hawkeye stopped struggling and became serious. “You can’t split up the team, Frank. You’re part of us.”

Frank looked hard at Hawkeye, and then at Trapper.

Trapper nodded. “That’s right.”

“Well, all right,“ Frank conceded. “But you guys got to stop teasing me.”

Hawkeye sobered. “Frank, the day we stop teasing you will be the day we stop, well, stop being your buddies.”

Trapper nodded. “And we are your buddies. Don’t ever again think we aren’t.”

“Hey!” Hawkeye hollered. “Do you know what Hot Lips told us? She said you were ticklish!” And he made a grab for Frank’s ribs.

Meanwhile, outside the Swamp, Henry asked, “Why, Margaret? Why shouldn’t Hawkeye and Trapper know that Frank connived to stay here?”

Suddenly, there was a crash from inside the Swamp as Frank’s cot collapsed. Henry and Margaret turned and watched as the sides of the tent bulged out with bodies in a ever changing kaleidoscope of movement. Other camp personnel who were still in the compound turned also to the antics of the tent, saw what was left of the Swamp merrily dancing, considered the source, and went about their business. A rolling and a scuffling and laughter, much laughter, and yelling, were heard from inside the tent.

“There,” Margaret explained. “That’s why. Can’t you hear it? That’s THREE voices, Colonel, not two. They’ve got a convert. Frank Burns has joined them.”

Henry did a mental and then a physical eye roll. “Oh, boy! Here, we go! And we thought we just had the North Koreans to deal with.”

Margaret gave him a sympathetic sigh and a shake of her head.

Margaret and Henry walked away without a backward glance as the folds of the now dislodged tent settled gently over the ground, muffling the sounds of laughter from within. A few weak rays of sunlight peaked over the surrounding mountains, and the distant sounds of approaching helicopters were faintly heard in the morning air.

Radar O’Reilly paused at the door of the O.R., squinted into the murky daylight, and prepared to holler “Incoming!”

And just another typical workday at 4077 M.A.S.H. had begun.

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing dealing with M.A.S.H.


End file.
